One Slightly Murderous Family
by palmtreedragons
Summary: Clint and Natasha sing on missions, Quicksilver watches old cartoons and gets bad ideas, Peter and Wade have a disastrous adventure, and they all battle to the death playing Pokémon Go. You couldn't make this stuff up if you tried. Avengers (and other Marvel folk) living together AU. Now featuring Spider-Man, Deadpool, the X-Men, the Agents of SHIELD, and the Guardians!
1. Bird Nerd

**And yet another one-shot today! I guess I have a thing for one-shots. . . .**

 **With the release of Deadpool fast approaching, I decided I needed to write something Marvel. Only 500 words for this one too, I know, I know. I couldn't decide whether to put this under Avengers, or a crossover with CA because I put Bucky in. You gotta love Bucky Barnes.**

 **And no, in case you were wondering, I don't own anything Marvel. I do own a Marvel shirt though, if that counts. And an Avengers pen.**

 **~palmtreedragons**

* * *

It was a calm, quiet day. Bruce and Tony were locked up in their lab studying whatever science stuff they did, Natasha was in a deep conversation with Steve and Thor about how to use the microwave, and Bucky was nowhere to be seen.

Then they heard a crash. A loud, annoying, silence-shattering crash.

Steve, Natasha, and Thor were first on the scene.

"Clint?"

Clint, who stood frozen in the hall with a coffee mug shattered at his feet, held a hand and violently shushed Steve, who blinked in confusion.

"LISTEN!" The Avengers indeed listened, and in the distance, they could hear faint chirping.

"What is it?" Natasha asked, brow furrowing as she thought of what type of bird could make that noise.

"A _painted bunting_! It's really rare! I've only seen a handful, and I've _never_ seen one in New York!"

"You enjoy observing Midgard's avian species?" Thor questioned. Clint ignored him.

"It's somewhere in the tower. I have to find it!" Before a word could be spoken, Clint disappeared around a corner. With a sigh, Nat followed him, but only to keep him from obliterating anything in his path.

"Steve!" Tony and Bruce came running. "What the hell was that?"

"Clint," answered Steve exasperatedly. "We're going to help him find this bird." Bruce seemed to accept this, but Tony nearly fell over laughing.

"Clint's a bird nerd?"

Clint could be heard from across the tower. "SHUT UP TONY!"

* * *

"C'mere, bird," Steve called.

"That's not how you call a bird." Natasha, not amused by the fact that they had been searching for hours, whistled in demonstration. Steve frowned.

Then it clicked in Tony's head. "Steve can't whistle!" he immediately shouted.

Steve flustered. "I-I can too!"

"Prove it." Tony crossed his arms and smirked as Steve glare at him. Luckily, Clint stormed in.

"I give up!" he shouted, throwing his arms up. "This stupid bird is nowhere!"

As Clint stomped off to sulk in his room, the rest of the Avengers sighed with relief.

* * *

Steve, dead-tired, trudged to his room—or, _floor_ , rather. Turning the corner, he ran into his friend.

"Bucky!" Steve greeted. "This day's been awful! I've had to follow around Clint all day while he looked for this dumb bird! What have you been up to?"

Bucky looked confused, before breaking into an ear-to-ear grin. "I've been practicing my bird calls."


	2. Jealous Androids

**Its amazing how many words you can type when you have Netflix, a soft blanket, and a full (now empty) bag of Cheetos.**

 **~palmtreedragons**

* * *

Tony thought of JARVIS like a person. He had his own voice, and he had his own ideas. He even had his own sense of humor, though only Tony knew him well enough to pick up on it. All he lacked in Tony's eyes was a body, and that didn't matter to either of them. For the longest time, during the creation of the Iron Man suits and during flight, it was just Tony and JARVIS.

So JARVIS didn't like it when Tony brought another smart person home.

Tony was excited at first. The Avengers had just diverted another crisis, the others were out doing God knows what super humans did in their free time, and the intelligent people of the group decided to brush up on their science. Tony had just wanted to show Bruce his newest work with the radiation treatment he had started. Tony had found Bruce's . . . _situation_ with the big guy fascinating, and decided to toy around with some radiation. Bruce only had a moment to marvel at Tony's super technological, super money-costing, super cool lab when an ion blaster fired at his head. Bruce, who managed to have freakishly good reflexes fro a scrawny scientist, managed to duck before his possible decapitation.

After confirming Bruce was not headless, Tony quickly dashed to the blaster, which was laying on the counter for fixing. It was completely unprovoked. Well, it did need to be fixed. "I—I don't— It shouldn't have—"

"I'm alright," Bruce shakily said with a smile. So, about those new findings?"

Tony shook himself, donning his Tony Stark grin. "Right. It's just over here. . . ." Tony led Bruce over to one of his tables. Using his advanced Stark technology, Tony pulled up a holograph of texts and images from his previous tests. With a swipe of his hand, Tony began to sift through the work, explaining and conversing with his friend. Tony was about to open a file when a message was displayed: **ERROR**.

Tony frowned, trying and failing to reopen the file.

"Try restarting it," Bruce suggested over Tony's shoulder.

"That's what I'm doing," Tony angrily shot back. "JARVIS?"

" _Yes, sir_ ," came the familiar voice.

"There seems to be a problem with the files. What's with the error?"

" _I'm trying to find the cause of it, sir. It might take some time_." Tony frowned once again. JARVIS had done three times as much work in a matter of seconds. But, when your AI servant/friend says they can't find the source of an error in your other friend's files dealing with his radiation mutations, there isn't much you can do.

Tony turned back to Bruce. "Well, it's a good thing I keep paper copies of my most important work, in case there's a failure or a virus."

Bruce smiled. "That's great."

" _Indeed, sir. I'll continue to work on your error. Is there anything else I can do?_ "

Tony, who was bent over in a cupboard trying to collect papers, didn't seem to hear. "Here it is!" Tony emerged, thrusting a manila folder filled with papers falling out to Bruce.

"Thanks."

"No problemo. You see, what I found interesting was. . . ." Tony and Bruce began an intense conversation that would make Steve and Thor's heads spin. A few minutes later, Tony was just getting to the good stuff—mutations of the acid in certain cells due to radiation exposure—when the lights went off. Now, in the process of creating the Iron Man suits, Tony had blown the circuits a few too many times. Luckily the backup generators always came on. Unlike now.

"JARVIS?"

" _Yes, sir?_ "

"Why aren't the generators kicking in?"

" _I'll look into it, sir_." Tony sighed. Then Tony screamed, because Bruce spoke up, and in the dark, Tony kind of forgot he was there.

"I should probably go," he said. "Come back when things are . . . working."

"Yeah." Tony listened to the sound of Bruce's footsteps as he walked away. Less than a minute later, the power came back on.

Normally, Tony would be angry, but all he could think of was taking a nap. He announced this to JARVIS, then headed out the door.

"Alright then, sir. I'll look into those malfunctions for you."

"Sure you will."


	3. On Your Left!

**Greetings readers, for I have returned!**

 **I decided to type up this little tumblr classic after school.**

 **A/N: From this point on I'll be posting some headcanons and junk I stumble upon on this story along with my own stories, so some of the ideas may not be mine.**

 **A/N #2: Spoilers for CA:TWS**

 **A/N #3: No I don't own Marvel, CA, or any of that stuff. If I did Steve and Tony wouldn't be trying to kill each other and the Avengers would know Phil isn't dead.**

 **A/N #4 sorta?: Did anyone know you could update chaps and post stuff from your phone? Because I didn't.**

 **~palmtreedragons**

* * *

Sam Wilson liked to run. He liked the burning of his lungs and legs, the exhilaration of pushing your body, the pride that overcomes you when you finish.

But like he said, he _liked_ to run, as in past tense, because his idea of a casual jog with a certain super solider had since ruined the effect of a calming run for him.

So Sam started running in secret. He thought it childish and silly to keep his runs private, but Steve liked to run possibly more than Sam. Not long after the whole "Hydra infested SHIELD but we destroyed them both" event happened, Steve had decided a weekly run could be healthy for the two. They even let Bucky join their running club after his whole deal had been sorted out. Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky ran faster than most jets Sam had seen fly in his service, and _Steve wouldn't stop saying the thing._

Sam was currently running his eighth lap, reveling in the familiar sense of running and silence. It was a beautiful day out, with a light breeze and a cool temperature. He was dirty and sweaty and feeling bone-tired, but at least he didn't have to hear—

"On your left."

" _Goddammit, Rogers!_ " Sam screamed as Steve's figure, running a mile a minute with perfect form, grew smaller and smaller. Sam continued to mutter a litany of curses as he puffed forward, his interruption allowing him to fully realize how sore and tired he was. The sun sailed higher in the sky, and sweat began to pour into his eyes, which he hastily wiped away with his forearm. Stupid Rogers, thinking he's all that with his stupid strength and his stupid endurance and his—

"On your left!" Sam tripped for multiple reasons. One: someone startled him when he was deep in thought about how stupid Steve was. Two: even though Steve was fast, he wasn't _that_ fast. If Steve was running their typical route, then it would take him at least another minute (and Sam another five) to reach this point again. And three: this time it wasn't Steve.

Lifting his head from where it was currently buried in the cement, Sam saw a glint of metal reflect off the man dashing away. "Bucky?

Just what Sam needed. Now they're both at it. Dejected but still persevering, Sam peeled himself from the sidewalk. Only a few bumps and bruises, nothing worse than what he's seen before. After a few seconds of contemplation, Sam jogged forward. _If I quit_ , he thought, _they'll win. They might be fast, but they'll have to do a lot more than grate my nerves to let me give up what I love. Maybe, just maybe they'll get bored. Maybe they'll leave—_

"On your—"

" _DON'T YOU DARE—_ "

"Left!"

" _STEVE!_ "

A few people turned to look at the sweaty, red-faced black man screaming at the top of his lungs like a lunatic. He sure would've.

Sam sat under the shade of an oak tree when he found it hard to breath. Mainly because of his annoyance. Taking deep breaths, Sam watched as Bucky soon dashed by, a blur of person and shiny metal. "Yeah, yeah," Sam hollered to him before he could speak. "On my left." Sam could faintly hear the sound of Bucky laughing.

* * *

Steve was having a lot more fun than he should've. It wasn't Sam's fault that he couldn't run as fast as them, and he was actually pretty fast for a normal person. But Steve wondered if they had taken the joke a bit too far when he passed a defeated Sam Wilson slumped under a shady tree, muttering the iconic phrase for Steve.

About halfway back to the oak, Steve began to slow down, waiting for Bucky to catch up. When he heard the sound of footsteps, Steve picked up his paced once more. He would wait for Buck, but he wouldn't let his friend _pass_ him.

"You see Sam?" Steve called over his shoulder. Bucky confirmed the question with a grunt. Steve then suggested, "Maybe we should stop?"

"What, just when we're having fun?" Bucky asked playfully. Upon seeing his friend's concerned face, though, his attitude changed. "Yeah," he agreed, a little out of breath.

But when they passed the oak, Sam wasn't there. Steve began to worry; maybe Sam had had enough of the two of them and decided to leave. What if he decided to stop running with the two for good? Steve began to think of how stupid the whole thing was in the first place. He planned on apologizing right after the run, but for now Steve allowed himself to focus on the pavement in front on him, and the sound of Bucky's footsteps behind him, and . . . the suspicious plane noise?

Before Steve could turn, he heard an "ON YOUR _ABOVE_ , ASSHOLES!" as the Falcon swooped overhead and passed the stunned pair of super soldiers.


	4. Love is an Open Door

**Wrote this last night while watching the best movie of all time—The Avengers!**

 **Hope you guys enjoy. Saw this headcanon and thought it was awesome.**

 **~palmtreedragons**

* * *

The Avengers were some of the most random people on the planet. That much was a given.

They had been called out on a mission one day, which was completely ordinary. Tony was complaining because he didn't get to finish is sandwich, which was ordinary too. A banWrote this while d of robbers were on the loose, guns ablaze and nothing to lose, and rampaging down the streets of New York. So,naturally, they call in the Avengers.

Thor was off doing Asgardian things, and Bruce was. . . . Well, he was nowhere to be accounted for. Which was ordinary too; it was normal for the team to come and go, the tower being something of a temporary stay between their adventures. Steve was currently punching the shit out of a bald guy with a sack of cash and arms as thick as tree trunks. He was unhappy because frankly, punching bad guys wasn't his idea of a relaxing Sunday evening. Tony was flying high above, making a game out of trying to hit the fleeing baddies with his beams as close as he could without killing them. It was fun to see the tattooed hardcore grown men run screaming like little girls.

Natasha was pissed and that was evident. She was a machine, taking down three men at once, which was completely normal, too. Let's just say this was a totally normal day for the four. Clint was on a street corner, nailing a passing thug in the arm with an arrow.

Craning his head to look behind him, he found himself back to back with his fellow agent. He cracked grin. "You know what's crazy?"

Natasha leaped on a tall and slender man with shaggy hair and a scruffy appearance and took him down. "What?" she asked, a tinge of annoyance seeping into her voice as she searched for another criminal to take down.

Clint, surprisingly, began to sing. _"We finish each other's—"_ He suddenly grabbed an arrow from his quiver and let it fly. A distant scream could be heard.

 _"Sandwiches."_

 _"That's what I was gonna say!"_ Clint exclaimed. Tony nearly choked. Were they. . . ?

Natasha ran to meet a foe, who was clearly no match for her. She took him down in seconds. _"I've never met someone—"_

 _"Who thinks so much like me!"_ Clint sang along as he used a semi-destroyed car to leap to a low roof. Better vantage point, the tactical part of his brain thought, while the other half was trying to remember lyrics.

 _"Jinx! Jinx again!"_ Steve was momentarily free of the fight and was asking Tony through his earpiece what was going on. Tony quickly shushed him.

 _"Our mental synchronization, can have but one explanation."_

 _"You—"_

 _"And I—"_ Natasha ducked behind a tipped over truck as a wild-eyed man with a machine gun let out fire.

 _"Were—"_ Clint saw Natasha fumbling with something behind the truck.

 _"Just—"_ Natasha ran from the truck. Her singing was surprisingly spectacular, considering the fight going on. With a signal only old friends on and off the battlefield could understand, Clint smirked and notched a specialized arrow. It was created to explode on impact, and was personally one of his favorites.

 _"Meant to be!"_

 _"Say goodbye. . . ."_ Natasha grabbed Steve by the arm as he pummeled his opponent to the ground.

 _"Say goodbye. . . ."_ Clint watched, waiting till they were a good distance from the truck.

 _"To the pain of the past!"_ They both joyously sang in harmony. Steve was very confused by this point.

 _"We don't have to feel it anymore!"_ Clint let the arrow fly. It set fire to the gasoline spilling from the overturned truck's engine and onto the road, successfully stopping the criminals and creating a huge mess of the area. _"Love is an open door!"_

Tony was in tears—a hazard, considering he was still in flight. He could only imagine how dissapointed Bruce would be once he found out what he was missing.


	5. Friendly Neighborhood Bug-Guy

With fresh new tails of adventure and peril, Thor strode into the Avengers Tower, expecting to be greeted by his teammates. To Thor's surprise, there was not a soul in sight. Mounting the stairs, Thor began his search for someone to talk with.

"Man of Iron?" he called as he reached the training floor, most commonly used by the Black Widow, the Hawkeye, and the Captain's new friend. "Are you not here?"

Thor continued his climb, ascending floor after floor. Stark's building was rather large; there could be any number of rooms his friends could be hiding in.

On Stark and Banner's "Science Floor", Thor spotted movement. "Is that you, Stark?"

Turmimg the corner, Thor saw a man go was most definitely not Stark, and most definitely not one of his teammates. The figure was more boy than man, with short, dark, and disheveled hair, and Thor's favorite Midgardian pastry, the Pop-Tart, hanging from his mouth. The person' eyes grew wide as he stopped suddenly, pulling what Thor vaguely remembered Barton explaining were "earphones" out of his ears.

"Intruder," Thor spoke, his eyes narrowing and his grip on his hammer tightening.

The boy raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "I can explain," he mumbled around the pastry

"Where are my friends?!" Thor demanded, hurling his hammer. The boy leapt upwards an incredible height, and Thor called his hammer back. To the Demi-god's surprise, the boy did not come down. His hands and feet were seemingly stuck to the ceiling, enabling him to defy such laws of gravity.

"I'm not an intruder!" shouted the super-human, leaping from the ceiling as the hammer once more tried to imbed itself in him. "I'm a friend!"

"You are a stranger!" Thor called out as he chased the boy into the next room, seemingly oblivious to the growing amounts of rubble and debris.

 _"What's happening?"_ a stunned voice behind Thor demanded. The Asgardian turned, and smiled as he greeted his friend.

"Man of Iron! There has been an intruder!"

"Tell him I'm a good guy, Tony!" the boy pleaded from where he hung, clutching a chandelier for dear life.

Tony blinked, taking in the damaged furniture, hole in the walls and ceiling, and the two brawling figures before him. "He—He's a good guy, Thor," Tony quickly said , hoping to please the strong man before any more damage could be done.

The boy dropped from above, making sure Tony was between him and the confused Norse celebrity. "Yeah. No problems, dude. I'm cool."

Thor gave a peaceful smile, as if two moments ago he weren't trying to kill the boy. He extended his hand. "My mistake. I am Thor, of Asgard."

The boy took his hand and shook it warily. "Peter Parker, of New York."

"You fight well, Spider-like Man."

The boy looked bashful. "Thanks. And it's just "Spider-Man", for future reference."

"Perhaps you could fill me in on what I have missed during my journeys."

"Sure thing, Muscles." The two walked off together, now seemingly the best of friends.

Tony stood, stunned, in the middle of a demolished room. "What the hell just happened?!"

* * *

 **Sorry for such a delay you guys! I was having the ultimate writers block trying to figure out how to introduce Spidey to the gang, and no matter what I wrote, it couldn't do the ideas in my head justice. So I figured, skip it and introduce him in a new way. Hope you guys liked it. He'll be in a lot more stuff with the Avengers, considering he practically is one of the guys in Civil War (*punches the air*).**

 **A/N: If you guys like quality Marvel/DC art, you should totally follow my Instagram: palm . tree . dragons ! (No spaces).**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	6. Beep Beep

The Avengers were a touch and go group. Someone would leave for months, and as long as the team heard from said person every now and then, no suspicion would be raised. It was also normal for superhumans to just kind of . . . appear at their doorstep.

Breakfast was being served in the kitchen. Sam Wilson insisted his grandpa's homemade pancakes were better than any store bought kind Tony could buy (to which Tony scoffed and declared a challenge). Clint was on his fifth mug of coffee, Bucky was talking about God-knows-what with Nat in Russian, Steve was reading the newspaper, and Bruce and Tony were having a very energetic discussion with Peter about science. All was normal.

Steve felt a gust of wind, and shivered. Forgetting the sudden chill, he returned to his newspaper—

The newspaper. The newspaper he was just reading. The newspaper that had been in his hands.

"Steve?" Bucky questioned. "Where'd it go?"

At this, Clint and Natasha looked over at the situation, and were also baffled. It was _right there_. Then it wasn't.

 _"Holy fuck!"_ Clint screamed, causing Sam to scream and flip a pancake onto the ceiling. "The ghost stole my fuckin' coffee. You're a dead man, ghost!"

"Aren't ghosts already dead?" Peter asked tentatively, still wary of his new team and their antics. He guessed they were okay, though. Just a little . . . random.

"Doesn't matter." Clint pouted as he rose from him chair. "I ain't afraid of no ghost."

Bruce squinted his eyes at Clint. "Did you just reference—?"

His question was broken off by another gust of wind, and this time the gust stole a pancake Sam was working on mid-flip.

"Aw, c'mon," Sam moaned. "Can't ya haunt someone else? Why me?"

"Wait!" Clint held out a hand to pause the Avengers. "Did you hear that? That noise that happened when the wind did?"

"Dude, you've got hearing aids. Your ears aren't the best," Tomy put in reasonably.

"I heard it, too." All eyes turned towards Peter, who merely tapped his head. "Super-hearing, remember?"

So the Avengers waited for the ghost to return, not moving a muscle. Suddenly Tony's plate dissapeared from where it sat, taking his pancakes with it. "I heard it!"

Natasha frowned. "It sounded like a beeping sound."

"No, not a beeping sound," Clint contradicted. "It was a 'beep beep'."

"I heard that before," Sam brooded thoughtfully. "Where have I heard that before?"

Peter snapped his fingers and grinned. " _Roadrunner_!" This was rewarded with a handful of blank stares. "Y'know, _Roadrunner_ ," Peter explained. "The bird thing from the cartoon that would always go 'beep beep!' before it ran away?"

Tony gave a wide smile. "Oh, yeah. I loved that show as a kid!" Sam was nodding nostalgically, too.

Clint was only more confused. "So why would a ghost go 'beep beep'?"

That's when the theories arose. Bruce thought it might have been the sound the wind made as it was passing by. Clint and Tony firmly stood by a ghost that loved classic cartoons was haunting them.

Peter tugged on Tony's sleeve. "Uh, Tony? Who's that?"

Tony followed Peter's gave to a new figure, a woman walked into the room.

"Wanda!" Clint shouted, waving his arm in greeting.

Wanda smiled at the sight of the team. "It's good to be back."

"Where's your brother?"

Before Wanda could respond, the gust blew past her, taking the baseball cap on her head with it.

"The ghost!" Tony screamed.

Wanda merely looked annoyed, and demanded in a stern voice, "Pietro, give it back."

Obediently, the gust of wind blew past her again, only this time stopping at her side and materializing into a very familiar form. Leaning against his sister, baseball cap on head, was the speedster. He raised a hand and waved. "Hey, guys."

"You're the ghost?" Clint spluttered, followed closely by Sam declaring Quicksilver stole his pancakes. The rest of the Avengers, aside from Peter, who was very confused at this point, were smiling.

Wanda rolled her eyes, taking a seat at the table. Sam warmly handed her a plate. "It's my fault. I let him watch television. A fatal mistake, as he hadn't stopped since Paris."

The table erupted into demands of tales from their journey, which Wanda obliged. Peter sat silently, processing the newest Avengers he's met, and wondering what Wanda's powers were. The man—Pietro—his powers of speed seemed immensely interesting. Pietro, where he sat sandwiched between his sister and the silent recruit, turned and gave him a warm smile.

"What can you do?"

Peter blinked at the bluntness of the question. "Uh. . . . I can climb walls and shoot webs from my hands like a spider."

Pietro grinned. "Just think," he sighed as he slung an arm around the unsure Spider-Man's shoulders, "of all the chaos we could inflict."

Peter slowly gave a mischievous grin, a grin none of his teammates had even known the small, innocent boy could possess. "I like you already."

* * *

 **I figured this story needed a little Maximoff in it. This was also inspired by the tumblr headcanon that made me laugh to the point of tears when I read it. So here you go, three new Avengers in two chapters!**

 **Who do you want to see next?**

 **A/N: Once again, if you guys love Marvel/DC art, you should totally follow my Instagram: palm . tree . dragons ! (No spaces or underscores, just dots.)**

 **And a special message to nightmarehunter676: You read my mind. Soon.**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	7. Did someone say Chimichanga?

Tony crossed his arms stubbornly. "No. _No way_."

Peter pouted. "C'mon, he's not _that_ bad. Saved my life a few times. He even buys me tacos from this sleazy food truck sometimes!"

"I just don't trust him. Not in the tower, or around our team. He's. . . ."

"Unpredictable?" Steve suggested from the couch, where he was reading a newspaper. (Seriously, grandpa, there's this thing called the internet now.)

Bruce peered above the frame of his glasses, momentarily pausing from his paperwork. "Annoying?"

"Unreliable," Thor put in firmly, watching the conversation unfold with slight irritation. He sided with the Man of Iron on this topic.

Clint grinned. "A suicidal son of a bitch who knows how to have a good time?" Nat slapped the back of his head.

Tony waved vaguely at his team. "You see my point, Petey? It's too big of a risk. In most countries he's got a price on his head north of ten thousand dollars. A guy like that's got to have his enemies."

"Or," Peter contradicted, equally as stubborn as his new mentor, "it could mean he's a great fighter who knows how to get out of tough situations." Tony frowned. "Aw, c'mon. You said you'd give him a chance."

Steve glanced up from his news. "You did promise, Tony."

"Thanks, grandpa," Tony called sarcastically to Steve, who returned to his paper. The rest of the team waited with held breath for the decision to be made. There was no leader to the team, but it _was_ Stark's tower, after all. Therefore, the final say was his. Tony looked back at Peter and his big, brown, sad puppy-dog eyes, and felt his resolve crumble. "Fine. Bring him in."

Seeing Peter's delighted face almost made Tony's choice worth it. Almost.

Peter dashed to the door, peeked his head out to alert his friend to the new decision, and skipped back to Tony's side. Suddenly, the door swung open, and the red-clad Merc with a Mouth strolled in.

Wade pointed a gloved finger at Tony with a carefree, I-don't-care-if-you-hate-me smile. "Heyyyyyyy, Tinman! Captain Popsicle! What's crackalackin'?"

"Get out."

* * *

"Aw, Stark, you don't mean that!"

"I do, really," Tony deadpanned. "Get out now."

Peter tried to shine his sad eyes at the billionaire, but with the mercenary in the room, Tony's irritation far outweighed his sympathy. "Please, Tony."

Tony sighed. "Petey, this was a mistake. He shouldn't be here."

"Why?" Deadpool asked with aloofness. He strode to Peter's side and slung an arm around the web shooter's shoulder. "Is it because I'm what you might call 'unpredictable'?"

"That's an understatement," Tony mumbled under his breath.

Wade went on, pulling a pistol from its place at his belt. "Or, perhaps it's my fondness of automatics?"

Tony glared. "You're practically covered in guns, grenades, and swords."

"Or my mental instability?"

"You're more psychotic than a serial killer," Tony said coldly. "Oh, wait, you're that too."

Deadpool removed his arm from Peter's shoulder and walked up to Tony, stopping inches away.

"We've all killed," said Wilson with shockingly lightness.

"Unlike you," Tony growled, "we regret killing. You do it for sport."

Peter stepped between the two, holding up his hands in a passive manner. "Guys, guys, I'm flattered you're fighting over me. But can't we just see what happens? I mean, he's been here two minutes."

Tony glared at Peter—something he didn't do often. "And in two minutes, I've already decided I don't like him."

"Thor tried to kill me when I first met him. Now we're bros, right, Thor?" The Asgardian begrudgingly nodded.

Tony sighed, setting his eyes back on the mercenary. "I don't like you," he stated simply.

"Really? I must've missed the memo."

Tony ignored Wade. "But you're Peter's friend, and he hasn't steered us wrong yet." Peter and Wade both exchanged grins, accepting their victory. Peter put a hand on Wade's shoulder, about to introduce him to the rest of the team, when Tony stopped the two. "Don't make me regret this, Wilson," he said with utmost sincerity.

Wade gave a mock salute. "You got it, Iron Man."

* * *

"'Sup, Barton?" Wade asked easily, already having brushed off Tony's vague threat.

Hawkeye grinned. "Nothin' much, Wilson."

Peter curiously eyed the two. "You two know each other?"

Clint grinned nostalgically. "Yeah, we've teamed up a few times."

"Why do I get the feeling this is another Budapest thing?" Bruce asked, work forgotten. He didn't have much against Deadpool, exactly—he just found the man to be a little erratic at times. Too violent and outgoing for Bruce's own liking.

"What's a Budapest? I think that gave me food poisoning once."

Natasha rolled her eyes at the illiterate assassin. Her views on Wade Wilson were much more cut and dry: she found his skills important, but his ego and mannerisms threw off any chance of official work like herself and Clint were in. "It's classified."

Deadpool raised his eyebrows—at least, it seemed as though he did. It was a bit hard to tell with the mask and all. "Clint, I didn't know you had a girl."

Clint made a face. "No way, dude. She's like my sister."

"If you say so," Deadpool shrugged, not buying the excuse. He then turned and headed towards the kitchen. "I'm starved. What's for—"

Thor suddenly stepped in front of the mercenary, blocking his path. "I'll be keeping watch on you," he warned.

Deadpool gave a cheery sigh. "I feel so welcomed here!" With that, he sidestepped the Asgardian prince and went to raid the fridge.

Peter's plan was to watch Wade like a hawk and make sure he didn't set anything on fire. Then maybe—just maybe—there might be a chance of his friend being invited once more.

Unfortunately, Tony and Steve intervened.

Soon after the recruitment of Spider-Man, Peter found he was the baby of the team. Despite being almost eighteen, he was a child in the team's eyes. Each teammate found it their personal duty to watch over Parker, which he found endearing. He never had to worry about a place to stay, or a person to watch his back, because one of the guys (or Nat) would always be there. But having Captain America and Iron Man as disapproving older brothers was nothing short of annoying.

"Just give him a chance," Peter pleaded quickly. Wade had left with the others for the kitchen nearly a minute ago; if someone hadn't died already, Peter would be truly thankful.

"I don't like him," Tony repeated for the fiftieth time that day.

Steve reluctantly shook his head. "I've seen better men. You could have picked someone more . . . less destructive, couldn't you?"

Peter let out an aggravated sigh. This was like pulling teeth. "You wouldn't understand."

Tony crossed his arms. "Try me."

Peter glared, mentally putting together a witty comeback. Suddenly, a scream could be heard from the kitchen. Nearly eighty-two seconds without a fire, Peter thought. I think that's a new record.

The trio dashed to the kitchen, just in time to see Clint swatting the refrigerator with a rag, trying to put out the flames. Natasha was in the corner trying to calm down Bruce, who looked too green for comfort. Thor, wielding Mjolnir, was chasing Deadpool around the kitchen. The panicked mercenary leaped over a counter, landing directly in front of the three.

Tony looked and sounded pissed. "You are so dead," he ground out through his teeth.

Steve watched Clint and his actions with confusion and horror, before sprinting to his aid. "How can a fridge catch on fire?" he shouted over the commotion. Clint gave a helpless shrug.

Peter was mortified. Wade turned his focus to his friend. "Peter, I am so sorry." Something in Tony stirred at the sincerity of the madman's voice. "I just wanted some nachos."

Peter was saved from a reply by Thor's hammer, which flattered Wade like a bug. A gory, mushy, dead bug. Tony cringed, slightly taken aback as he saw the remains of Wade Wilson slowly knit themselves back together. Hearing of a man who couldn't die was one thing. Seeing it happen was another.

Thor, who had known his now enemy's superpower, looked angry still, but much less irritated. On Clint and Steve's side of the room, the flames had spread to the walls and ceiling, and it was now a matter of controlling the flames rather than putting them out. Clint disappeared in search of the nearest fire extinguisher.

"He's never coming over again, is he?" Peter asked. The incredulous look on Tony's face was enough of an answer. A roar came from across the room as the Hulk was unleashed. Steve ran to Natasha's side and the two tried to keep Bruce's alter ego contained. Thor quickly joined them.

"This is bad," Peter muttered. Half of him wanted to run to their sides and help, but another wanted to stay with his lonesome, new friend. He knew from several past experiences that Wade's regenerations weren't always easy; it helped if the first thing he saw was a friendly face. Tony reluctantly left Peter's side. not wanting to leave the teen alone, but not wanting his team to be put in harm's way. Clint ran into the room, brandishing the bright red fire extinguisher. He began to aim at the flames, as the room became a mess of fire, smoke, and white foam. The fires soon subsided, and Wade began to gain control of himself once more. Looking around, Wade saw with shame the chaos he created. Hulk roared once more, and Peter decided, after seeing his friend somewhat alright, he would go help the others. Taking off, Peter began to run the distance of the room. Hulk swatted at Thor, missing and crashing his fist into the ceiling, Peter stopped short as debris fell from above.

Tony turned and watched as the teenager was buried in rubble. _"Peter!"_

Tony and Clint, flames now subdued to his work, began to pull away the rubble. Somewhere deep inside the pile, someone began to move. "Peter!" Tony called once more.

To Tony's surprise, it was Wade Wilson who emerged. In his arms was a unconscious, but still alive, Peter Parker.

* * *

The kitchen was ruined, but luckily there were no fatalities. Unless you counted Deadpool's death, but he doesn't really count.

Thor, Clint and Steve were on clean-up duty, being he strongest available members. Natasha was with Bruce, who was now back to his scientist state, and was sleeping like he was dead to the world. Tony and Steve were mending up Peter, who managed a concussion and a broken rib. And stuck at Peter's side was Wade, who refused multiple times to leave. Steve gave Tony a look before leaving the room with the dirty medical supplies. It was his I-told-you-he-was-okay look. And yes, Rogers had a look for that.

After an hour or so of aftermath, Peter dozed of, sleeping away his concussion. Deadpool and Tony remained at his side, both sitting in silence.

After a long moment, Wade cleared his throat. Tony looked up at him. "I'm, uh . . . sorry. About your fridge. And your kitchen. And your ceiling. I would offer to pay, but I'm broke and you're rich."

Tony watched as Wade fidgeted, never quite meeting Tony's gaze. He apologized like a person who didn't do it often. Tony could relate. "You saved Petey," Tony stated. "I should thank you."

Wade shrugged awkwardly. "It was nothing."

The two lapsed into silence, only disturbed by Peter's heavy breathing.

"I should go," Deadpool said suddenly, rising from his chair. Tony nodded silently, and watched Wade as he went for the door.

"Wait," Tony called, just before Wade reached for the doorknob. The mercenary turned. "I just wanted to let you know. . . . You'll never be an Avenger."

Wade nodded somberly, expecting nothing less. Most of his visits to peoples' houses resulted in him being kicked out.

"But," Tony said, "that doesn't mean you can't stop by every now and then."

Wade blinked at Tony blankly, before it registered. He wasn't being kicked out. _He was being invited over again_. That was definitely a first.

"Sure," Wade said finally, slowly opening the door. "Yeah, that sounds cool."

Tony hated masks because you could never see your opponent's facial expressions—though, he supposed that was the point. But the one thing a mask could not hide was the emotions in your voice. And with Wade's final farewell words, Tony supposed he wasn't really that bad of a guy, after all.

* * *

 **DEADPOOL!**

 **I've been waiting to introduce this guy forever! And especially with Spidey!**

 **So, what'd ya think? The ending turned out a lot more feelsy that I anticipated, but I feel proud how this turned out.**

 **Who do you think I should introduce next?**

 **A/N: Don't own characters, only my fluffy plot.**

 **Until next time!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	8. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters

The first time Steve saw him, he thought he saw a ghost.

It was a rather crowded street corner, and Tony was showing Steve around modern New York, pointing out the new while Steve pointed out the old. They stopped at a corner as the traffic flew past. Tony was babbling on about how he had donated money to this place and they made that place and so on—Steve could care less. But then he glanced across the street, and he though he saw the all too familiar face. But he _couldn't_ be—it was _impossible_.

Steve lost sight of the ghost of a man in the crowd. Tony began to walk on, oblivious to Steve's baffling situation. The last thing Steve could catch sight of the figure in the crowd was the flash of a logo on his dark baseball cap: a neatly scripted _X_.

Steve brushed off the experience. A day or two later he told Bucky, who was the only one Steve felt could fully understand this vision. Both had quickly decided it was impossible. Only . . . the pair were suppose to be almost a hundred years old. Yet there they were, not looking a day over twenty-five. Maybe, somehow, their old buddy from the war survived, too. But the doubt in Steve's mind won over that thought, and he was quick to forget about the puzzling memory. Seeing New York—a mix of so familiar yet so foreign—must've resurfaced old memories. It was most likely nothing

But he was very much intrigued when he saw the symbol once more. Tony was debriefing the team about a mission Fury wanted them to take somewhere in New York, and Steve saw the _X_. He started at the sight, shock knocking the breath out of him. Maybe what he saw was more than a figment of his imagination, after all.

"Uh, Tony? What's that?" he questioned unsurely, pointing to the symbol on Stark's holographic screen.

Tony glanced at it, before surprise and a bit of giddiness came across his features. "Oh, yeah," he said cheerily, more to the rest of the team than to Steve. "Grandpa doesn't know about the school."

"What school?" Steve asked, annoyance creeping into his tone. Bucky, who stood silently behind him, nodded in confusion.

"Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," said Natasha with a fond smile. "A safe haven for superhuman kids. People born with powers, unlike us. _Mutants_ , they call them." Parker smiled, also knowing a thing or two from Wade (though, they may have been biased or extremely exaggerated).

"Pietro and Wanda used to go there," Clint chimed in. He himself didn't have powers, but the idea of a school dedicated to helping kids who were deserted or scorned for abilities they didn't want? Hell, he couldn't think of a better place in the world.

Steve looked on in wonder. Tony nodded proudly, continuing his speech. "Fury says they need some back-up. It's probably about time we introduce ourselves."

* * *

Steve was in awe when he first saw the mansion; it was _huge_ , for starters. But then he saw kids—young, innocent kids—running around, playing tag or chase, and he couldn't help but smile. They seemed so normal. It was just like any school—heck, it was far better than that. In the short time Steve had been in the twenty-first century, he read up on his history. It took him a while to realize that not everything on paper was exact in the modern day world; one thing in particular was discrimination. People with "genetic abnormalities" seemed to be the newest group of people facing wrath from society. But from the looks of this place, you wouldn't have been able to guess any of that hatred was in these kids lives. The Avengers parked their quinjet next to the school's jet (which was also fairly cool, in Steve's opinion) and entered the estate.

They had come in casual clothes. No suits were needed for planning "war strategies" as Stark had put it. Steve figured it would be no more than an official alliance of the two organizations. That didn't stop Tony from bringing some of his gadgets, though.

The large oak doors that blocked the inside of the school from the outside world were closed. The team mounted the steps, anticipation and excitement building. Just before Clint reached to open one of the doors, a girl ran _through_ it, as if it were made of air. The Avengers stumbled back, making way for the mutant girl. She took off down the steps and ran out of sight. The doors swung open not a moment after, and a boy followed her, his hands blasting ice before him so that he could slide down the front steps. He, too, glided off, leaving the adult superhumans speechless.

" _So_ cool," Peter whispered, awestruck. He broke into a grin, and before anyone could stop him, the young teen dashed after them.

Tony stepped forward, making to stop his protégé, when Steve's hand came down on his shoulder. "Let the kid have some fun. It's not often he gets to be around super-people his age." Tony frowned. He didn't want to let Peter out of his sight in case anything went wrong, but Steve did make a good point.

The school's front doors swung open once more, and a man with red-tinted sunglasses ran out the door, most likely chasing the duo from before. "Bobby, no powers inside!"

"I'm not inside anymore!" the boy—Bobby—shouted from somewhere across the large lawn.

The man stopped at the end of the steps, realizing that chasing the two teenagers would be useless. He turned to go back indoors when he first noticed the team. "The Avengers?" he guessed with a smirk.

"That's us," Tony stated, holding out a hand to shake.

The man accepted it warmly. "Scott Summers."

"Aret you a bit old to be a student, Summers?" Tony joked.

Scott gave a light laugh. "I'm a teacher. I used to be a student, though."

"How long has this place been open?" Steve asked curiously. This Scott seemed friendly enough, and Steve was intrigued now more than ever about what went on behind those doors.

"Since the seventies," Scott replied, walking back up the steps and back into the mansion. "The Professor is this way."

It was a comical sight, walking through the school. It seemed just like any ordinary boarding school you might find; there were dorm rooms, classrooms, students playing or doing work, teachers trying to maintain order. But it would take another look to notice the peculiar signs indicating this was no ordinary school. Some students would wave a hand and a light would turn on, or something would move towards them. Each child, they found, had their own unique ability. It wasn't too hard to see it was a school for gifted youngsters indeed. The occasional sign reading " _Remember: No fire, telekineses, maiming, or fighting is allowed on the first floor,_ " was a dead giveaway.

"What's with the glasses?" Clint asked as they entered an empty hallway. Doors lined either side of the hall, small windows allowing a bit of sight into them. Steve peered into the closest one. He saw a woman with white hair gesturing at a whiteboard, and students at desks taking notes. _It's just a normal classroom_ , Steve thought in wonder. A small boy at the front glanced up from his notes and his eyes traveled to the door. He did a double-take, mouth opening with surprise as Captain America looked back. Steve chuckled, lifting his hand to wave. The boy blinked back in shock. Smiling, Steve tore himself away from the sight in just enough time to hear Summer's answer.

"My mutation."

"And what's your mutation?" Clint hissed in pain as Nat punched his side, silently telling him to stop prying into this stranger's business.

Scott didn't seem to mind the asking. "My eyes emit powerful blasts of energy when they open. These glasses are one of the only things that can stop them. Without these, I can't see." Tony and Bruce exchanged glances, knowing they would have to ask whoever made those glasses all sorts of science-y questions.

Clint looked thrilled. "You have _laser vision_? That's so cool!"

Scott stopped at a door to their left, knocking once before opening it. "They've started the meeting," he informed the Avengers, leading them in. Steve entered a decorated study with his team. Behind a large desk was an elderly man, his head shaved and his eyes focused; Steve guessed this was the Professor. Standing next to him was a young woman with red hair to rival Natasha's. Scott joined the woman's side, and the Professor smiled warmly at the team. He seemed the embodiment or the term "fatherly figure."

"I'm so grateful you could stop by. My name is Charles Xavier."

Tony stepped forward, taking the initiative to introduce his large team, including their nicknames. Tony thought he saw Scott snicker at "Captain America." The man in question was too preoccupied to defend himself. Since his eyes left they traveled to the last figure in the room. He was pressed into the back corner, eyes lost somewhere out the window as he absentmindedly held an unlit cigar between hiss lips. Steve pulled on Bucky's sleeve, and the Winter Soldier too noticed the gruff figure.

"Logan?" Steve tentatively asked, unaware of the Professor and Tony's discussion. All eyes in the room traveled to Steve and the man in the corner. The mysterious man's eyes locked onto Steve, and the cigar slipped from his mouth. It dropped to the floor forgotten.

"Rogers? Barnes?"

* * *

 **Helllooooooo nerds! First of all, I'd like to thank** SLYNNR **for giving me this idea! Introducing the X-Men was next on my list, and you gave me the perfect way to do it!**

 **A/N #1: I have gotten a few requests to add _Daredevil_ , and though he is on my list of people to add, I sadly have not watched the TV show yet, and feel that if I were to introduce him now, it would not be as well as it would be after I watch at least the first few episodes. Once I start watching, though, I will be sure to make a chapter for him! Thanks for understanding. :)**

 **A/N #2: As you can tell from the ending, this will be a two-parter. It would really help if you guys commented some ideas you want me to put in, or characters you want me to feature. And don't worry: this and the next chapter won't be the only X-Men chapters I have. You'll see a lot of these guys later!**

 **A** **/N #3: As always, _REVIEWS_ are my lifeblood! My favorite moments of the day are when I see reviews on my chapters I post. BTW if I haven't said it yet: YOU GUYS ARE GREAT! Not only have I reached a new record of views per day, but this is my most viewed story. So thanks so much you guys!**

 **Until next time!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	9. Brothers in Arms

**A/N #1:** _THERE WILL BE NO SPOILERS FOR CIVIL WAR!_ **And please, for myself and others who have not seen it yet, don't spoil anything.**

 **A/N #2: This chapter will contain flashbacks, and these will be set loosely around the comics where Wolverine and Captain America fight together during World War II. NOTE: I haven't read these comics, I've only done research about them. Some of it I've altered for plot purposes.** **Forgive me and let me know about any mistakes.**

 **A/N #3: When you see "Sargeant Fury," it is NOT Nick Fury. In the comics, Nick Fury's father was around when Steve and Logan teamed up. Hope that clears up any confusion.**

* * *

 **1941**

 _The Howling Commandos were gathered in a circle, sharing boisterous war stories (most of which they had all experience together), drinking from their canteens (everyone knew it wasn't water), and rejoicing in their latest victory against Hydra. Another base down, another step closer to winning the war._

 _Dum Dum, his cheeks pink from alcohol, stood up and slurred a bold story of how he took on twenty Hydra soldiers single-handedly. Morita pointed an accusing finger at him, claiming he was there the whole time, and there weren't even half that many men._

 _Steve smiled to himself, silently watching his team as they joyfully argued. Bucky sat beside him, sipping thoughtfully from his canteen. Steve was the only one sober; the serum was keeping his body in mint condition, and that meant he could no longer feel the state of being drunk. It wasn't much of a loss—he wasn't a drinker before, and couldn't see himself as one now, ability to or not._

 _"We're getting a new recruit," Bucky stated quietly to his captain. He stared into the fire absentmindedly, tugging at his collar. None of the Commandos bothered to change out of uniform._

 _"Yeah," Steve said simply. "Some Canadian. He's pretty good, I hear."_

 _Bucky raised his eyebrows, eyes traveling past his lifetime pal. Steve glanced over his shoulder and stood abruptly as their Sargent Fury came into view, a figure in foreign uniform trailing behind him._

 _Steve was a fantastic judge of character. Often he would know if he liked someone or not within the first few seconds of meeting—something that led to many fights Bucky dragged Steve away from. He eyed the man behind Sargent Fury; he wasn't too tall, but had a stockily built frame; his expression was rough, weathered, and bitter; he held himself the way all overconfident men held themselves: head high and an air of not giving a damn; to top it all off, his uniform glittered around the neck with a military dog tag, and an unlit cigar hung from his mouth._

 _"Captain," Sargeant Fury addressed. Steve nodded in greeting. The rest of the Commandos quickly stood at attention, some stumbling in their drunkenness. "This is your new member, James Howlette."_

 _Fury turned to James, stepping aside to let him introduce himself. Steve closed the distance between them and extended a hand. James regarded it coldly, glaring eyes traveling to Bucky, then to the disheveled men, and back to the Captain. "Got a light?"_

 _Steve was put out to say the least. He could already tell this man would be a great soldier, but an awful man, and that he could not have on his team._

* * *

 **Today**

The Avengers and the X-Men blinked in confusion, eyes traveling between the three figures. Logan suddenly broke into an uncharacteristic grin, taking a few steps forward. Steve smiled, too, only with shock.

"My God," Logan murmured. "Well, if it isn't Star-Spangled-Shit-Face." The two quickly exchanged an embrace, and Logan turned his attention towards Barnes. His cheerful demeanor flickered as he noticed the man visibly different than the soldier he knew in the war. He quickly masked it; he wasn't one to pry.

"Logan," the Profesor asked curiously, "is this man a friend of yours?"

Steve frowned. _Logan?_ This was certainly the stubborn Canadian he'd met decades before, James Howlette. A change in name was nothing too drastic—it would just take some getting used to.

Logan gave a dry laugh. "He's an old war buddy. Barnes, too."

Bucky ducked his head uncomfortably as all eyes came to him. Clint looked like he wanted to bombard the trio with questions, but feared Natasha Romanoff's wrath, like any normal human being would.

Suddenly there was a cloud of dark smoke, obscuring the Professor's desk. As the smoke cleared, Tony gave an undignified shriek as he noticed a man with blue skin crouching on the surface of the large desk. "Profezor," he spoke with a thick accent, "some students have started a fire in ze main hall."

Charles frowned for a moment, turning and addressing his two X-Men. "Scott, Jean, I trust you two can handle this situation?" The two nodded, exiting the room with a brief goodbye to their new allies. The blue, tailed man, satisfied with his work, disappeared with another poof of smoke. Tony and Clint stared in confused shock, the others amazed wonder.

"Well," spoke Charles kindly, bemused by the adult super-heroes' reactions to his students. "I believe I don't need to waste all of your member's time. Perhaps a negotiator and I could sit and talk; the rest of you could explore the grounds of you wish."

Bruce slapped a hand over Tony's mouth before he could say anything stupid. "I believe Natasha is our negotiator."

Xavier smiled, telling Scott and the other woman, Jean, to keep an eye on the kids. "They are very energetic about Earth's mightiest heroes being on school grounds."

The Avengers left the two to discuss buisness. Thor and Tony went to the left, wanting to "set out on an adventure and make friends (and enemies)." Bruce and Clint headed towards the cafeteria. Steve wondered just how much damage would be done by the end of the day.

"Is it really you, Howlette?" Steve was surprised to hear Bucky's voice for once. Bucky was only outgoing around close friends. (The only ones who made it on the list were Steve, Natasha, and at some points, Sam Wilson. It only made sense James— _Logan_ —would be on there, too.) The three stood alone in the hall, and for a moment, Steve could have sworn he was in the forties again.

"Damn right it is."

* * *

 _Their first mission with James ultimately led to disaster._

 _Steve had assigned them each positions to wait orders. They were going to take down another Hydra base, but first they needed to establish a safe perimeter._

 _"Jones?"_

 _"East wall secure, Captain."_

 _"Falsworth?"_

 _"Roger, Rogers."_

 _"Buck?"_

 _"All clear, Stevie."_

 _"Howlette?" Steve waited for a response. "Howlette? Are you there?"_

 _"Is there a problem?" Bucky asked over their radio._

 _Steve swore under his breath. Curse Howlette. Curse him and his waywardness, and his stubbornness. "I'm not sure. We wait for Howlette. If there's no response, we fall back."_

 _"And if our cover's blown?"_

 _Steve was silent for a moment. If their cover was blown, Hydra would know Americans were this far north, and it would blow their surprise tactics right out of the water._

 _Before Steve could respond, there was an explosion. He watched as the whole base was blown to smithereens, and an overconfident voice came over the radio: "Sorry, Mr. America. I don't do orders."_

 _When the Howling Comandos returned, the men immediately went into their post-foght, pre-war actions of making a fire, pulling up somebody chair, and getting any liquor they could acquire._

 _Steve pulled James aside, his face telling the man it wasn't to congratulate him._

 _"I got the job done," Howlette defended, before Steve could let out a word._

 _"I'm your superior. You follow my orders."_

 _"No offense, but I don't follow orders from a man wearing a U.S. flag. I'm Canadian."_

 _"Nationality doesn't have a thing to do with this," Steve snarled. "You could have cost my men their lives."_

 _James only shook his head. "But I didn't. Besides,_ Captain _, aren't you wondering how I did it?"_

 _Steve stood in silence for a moment, contemplating if it was worth giving into his new opponent's twisted game. He let out a long, weary sigh. "Fine. After all, it did get the job done. Our endgame is to defeat Hydra."_

 _"Damn right it is."_

* * *

There was a _whoosh_ of wind, and suddenly Clint was on the ground, a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his torso.

"Clint!" Pietro shouted with glee. Clint gasped—the air was knocked out of his lungs on impact. Wanda slowly entered the room, hiding a smile behind her hand as she grinned at the sight.

Clint struggled to sit up, trying to untangle himself from the speedster.

Bruce grinned at him. "Good luck with that."

"Bruce—no!" Clint reached a hand out in fake desperation as the scientist wandered off. "Don't leave me with them!"

Pietro giggled (yes, _giggled_ ) as his sister pulled him off of the archer. Clint smiled goofily back. "Havent seen you two in a while. Do anything stupid while I was gone?"

Pietro pumped two fists in the air. "I broke the sound barrier!"

"And a wing of the school," Wanda put in accusingly.

"It wasn't a _wing_ , Wanda. It was three classrooms."

"And Cyclops' motorcycle."

Peter sighed in exasperation. Clint smiled, draping an arm around the Scarlet Witch's shoulders. "And what about you, missy?"

Pietro pouted, spilling more gossip to their surrogate father. "Wanda got a boyfriend! And he's _stupid_!"

"He's not stupid. If anything, he's a genius."

"And he's pink. And _not human_."

Clint raised an eyebrow. "What now?"

"His name's Vision," Wanda explained. She thought her brother was acting like a child, which he _was_ , and was determined to get Clint on her side of this argument. "I'm sure you've heard of him."

Clint spluttered. " _Tony's_ Vision?"

"Yeah!" Pietro said stubbornly, as if Clint was proving his point. "And he's stupid!"

"We've already discussed this, Pietro. _Multiple times!_ "

* * *

 _On their second mission, things went really good, and then really, really bad._

 _Steve and Bucky had spent a long night with the new member, discussing the Canadian's ideas and strategies. The Captain had to give credit where credit was due; James' plans were ingenious. More stealth than guns blazing, more in-and-out than being thorough and staying until things went south._

 _They had the compound surrounded, and were just emerging from their hidden spots to attack. Bucky was a few hundred yards to Steve's left, and Logan to his right. The rest were spaced accordingly. The first few guards on look-out were easy as always_ — _t_ _hey didn't suspect a thing. But then Steve got sloppy. He took notice of Hydra war plans on a nearby surface, and his curiosity was piqued. What he didn't notice was the guard with a severe concussion—Steve could have sworn he was unconscious—pulled the alarm. The halls were suddenly filled with blaring, droning sirens, and emergency lights bathed the walls red. Steve swore, taking off down the corridor._

 _His first instinct was to run, but he needed to find his men. It was nearly impossible to hear the static-y radio over the alarms, but Steve managed to make out confirmation that all the Commandos were safely out of the base, heading to the rendezvous point. All except Howlette and Bucky. Steve searched his brain, trying to find the most likely place the pair were stuck in. He settled on the north barracks, and prayed he would reach them in time._

 _Upon reaching the barracks, Steve saw a swarm of Hydra agents gathered in a large pile ahead of him. Their estimate of men was drastically off; the supposed fifty men was nearing two hundred in this room alone. Steve caught sight of Buck off to the side, standing his ground just fine. But the Captain stood glued to the spot; the pile of dead Hydra men was growing faster than they could be replaced, and in the middle stood James, a large gash on his face, three bones protruding from each of his fists, and an animalistic rage surrounding him._

* * *

"So, you're a teacher now? Didn't seem like teacher material when we met."

Logan huffed, sipping his beer. "Shut up, Rogers."

"You're different," observed Bucky quietly. The James they knew would have cursed them out for a comment like that. May have even let loose a punch or two, depending on the day he'd had. At least he seemed . . . friendlier.

"So are you," Logan shot back, and then said to Steve, "And you, too."

"It's been a while. Almost—"

"Seventy years," Logan finished. They were now sitting in an unused classroom; it was one of the only places not crawling with teenagers. A reunion like this deserved some peace and quiet.

Steve watched his old friend carefully, only just realizing that while Steve slept through his time, and Bucky's time was a muddled and forgetful mess, Logan trudged through his time, year by year. "You never said you didn't age."

"You didn't ask."

Bucky shook his head, laughing to himself. "Still as vague as ever."

Steve allowed himself a moment of reminiscence before assaulting Logan with the many questions he had. "Everyone's a mutant here, right? So the Professor's a mutant, too?"

"Yeah," Logan grunted. "Telepathy."

"So, he can read minds and stuff?" Steve inquired.

"And mind control, if he wants. Let's just say, you don't want to get on his bad side." Logan thought he saw a shiver run through Bucky. He made a mental note not to bring up the subject of mind control again, just to be safe.

"What's with the name?" Bucky asked, shaking his head slightly to clear the disturbing thoughts. "'Winter Soldier' sounds kind of tacky, but 'Wolverine'?"

"Oh, and 'Captain America' is any better?" Logan and James laughed at the absurd name. Steve nodded his head, accepting the jab at his title. "And what's with this 'Avengers' thing? Some super-hero fight club?"

"Not that different than the X-Men," Steve said.

Logan shook his head firmly. "Nuh-uh. We're good at our job."

"We are, too!" Bucky insisted.

"The first time you guys got together, you destroyed _New York City_."

"And stopped an alien invasion."

"And the second time you demolished Sokivia."

"And saved the world from robots."

"That you all invented." The three shared a long, heart-felt laugh.

Steve let out a long sigh, smiling fondly. "Wow. Seems like just yesterday Buck and I were meeting what seemed like the only mutant in the world. Now. . . ."

"It's a bit overwhelming." Logan saw that look on every kid who walked through the front doors for the first time. That feeling that you finally weren't alone—it was indescribable. Logan knew that Steve and the James Howlette he once was had shared that feeling long ago.

* * *

 _When they returned, James quickly disappeared. The Commandos were immediately drawn to their drinks, and insisted upon Steve and Bucky joining them. Steve wondered if maybe, in the heat of the moment, he had imagined the vision. Perhaps he was simply holding knives in his hands, or debris. But one silently exchanged look with Bucky over the table told him he was right; his friend saw the same thing._

 _They slipped away soon after, and found James sitting in his tent, hunched over in his slouching position at the edge of his bed. His facial injury was no longer visible, and he was holding his knuckles gingerly, as if they were injured. Steve noticed they weren't. Upon seeing the two men, Howlette's hands dropped to his lap. "What're the golden boys doin' in here? Shouldn't you be out celebrating?"_

 _"We need to talk." James quickly dropped the sarcasm, waiting for the imminent talk. "We saw you earlier, at the barracks. We saw. . . ."_

 _Steve trailed off, not knowing how to describe what he saw. It wasn't natural. Luckily James understood. He dropped his head for a moment, before meeting his captain's eyes once more. "Who else knows?"_

 _Bucky took a step forward. "Just us. What was that?"_

 _James shrugged. "It just happens. I was born with 'em."_

 _Bucky and Steve mulled over this information. A few months ago, it would have seemed the plot of a cheesy novel you could get down the street. But now, after a scientific experiment that changed scrawny Steve Rogers into Captain America, an American hero, and Hydra, and all they had witnessed, it didn't seem the most far-fetched thing in the world. "What about your face? It was practically torn open."_

 _"I heal quick," was all the man would say. A silence fell, and the new recruit looked to the ground. Few had ever found out his ability, but once they did he was expected to leave. Nobody wanted to be around a vicious freak of nature._

 _But then Bucky grinned. "Gosh, you really are the perfect soldier."_

 _James nearly laughed out loud. "You got that right, kid."_

 _"At least we can use this to our advantage." Steve could only think of what the three men, along with their elite team, could accomplish._

 _James blinked in stunned silence. "You still want me around?"_

 _Bucky rolled his eyes. "Of course. You're a super-human. We don't get many of those around. And you and Steve are kind of the same, when it comes to supernatural abilities."_

 _James looked at Rogers. He'd heard rumors of a drug that could made the feeblest of man into a full-on hero. He might not have been born that way, but he was certainly different than the average Joe. "I guess we aren't that different, after all."_

* * *

Tony stood at the end of a poker table, watching as Peter slid a pile of his chips towards the center. The young Avenger glanced up, breaking into a grin. "Oh, hey. What's up?"

The alliance had been formally acknowledged; Natasha made it a breeze as their ambassador. Thor and Bruce only caused a few damages (sadly the Hulk did make an appearence tonight) and Clint and his twins caused a fire. Nothing out of the ordinary. It was Tony's duty to round up their youngest member and meet the team at the quinjet. "We left you alone for thirty minutes—"

"Two hours."

" _Two_ hours, and you learn to gamble?"

"Uh . . . yeah? Gambit's been teaching me!"

"Da kid's ah nat'ral." Tony glared at the southern man sitting besides his ward. Gambit's red eyes gleamed with mischief as he twirled a playing card in his hand. Besides him sat a girl with white streaks in the front of her dark hair and the blue, dissapearing man from before.

Tony grabbed Peter's arm and tugged him away. "We gotta go."

Peter pouted. "Aw, Tony! You're no fun!"

Tony rolled his eyes. "We have to get back to Fury and SHIELD."

The angry teenager yanked his arm from Tony's grasp. "Usually Steve's the suck-up," he grumbled. "It's no fun at the tower. I want to stay here."

Tony huffed. "Not now, Pete. Can't you have your teenage issues once we get home?"

Peter glared, crossing his arms. "I'm barely an Avenger anyways. You guys treat me like a baby. At least here I'm understood."

Tony looked around at the super-human school. What Peter said was true. Alone in the tower, Peter was always being watched by someone. They were only trying to help; everyone felt protective of the young Spider-Man—but he supposed they were a bit smothering, especially when it came to what Parker could and could not do in the field. He was the only kid. Here, he could have friends. _Real_ friends. A parental instinct deep inside Tony screamed _"Don't let him out of your sight!"_

Tony looked at Peter sadly. "Fine."

Peter blinked. "Wait—what?"

"You can stay." It was no use keeping Peter to himself if he would only be miserable. "But you've got to visit _every_ weekend, you hear?"

 _"Done!"_ Two arms wrapped around Tony's neck, and before he could react, the teen was springing off to share the news. Tony sighed sadly; as cliche as it was, he was already missing the kid.

Steve came up behind the Iron Man, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You did good, Tony. I think you made the right decision."

"Yeah, yeah." Tony shrugged off the hand, hiding his emotions at the sight of the patriot. He couldn't let Rogers see him _cry_. "Let's blow this popsicle stand."

* * *

The sky was growing dark as the Avengers gathered around their ride home. Some of the X-Men were there to wish them off, as well as Peter, who was being nagged by Tony. Clint was tearing up as he said goodbye to his "little ones," and Natasha and Thor were signing autographs. Some of the kids were deliberately annoying Bruce, crossing their fingers and hoping he would Hulk out.

Steve smiled to himself. Today had been a good day. Bucky and Logan joined him at his side, and Steve extended a hand to the Wolverine. "It was real nice to see you again, Howlette."

Logan gave a small half smile, accepting the handshake. Steve had one more question on his mind: "What did you do after the war?"

Logan's eyes took on a far away look, a bit of sadness creeping into them for a moment. He quickly masked it so well, Steve thought he might have imagined it. "The usual. I kept on moving."

* * *

 _It was the morning after their third mission that the Sargent gave James his papers._

 _"What the hell are these?" he asked around a cigar.  
_

 _"Transfer papers," he replied tersely. "You'll be heading off to a different unit tomorrow morning."_

 _"A transfer? Why?" James was only just now becoming one of the guys; their third mission was excellent, and now Steve and the others accepted him in their tradition of drinking by the fire, rather than excluding him. He was never bothered by being shipped around from unit to unit. At least, he wasn't before being a Commando. Now, he had something to fight for._

 _"They need men, and you're qualified." The Sargent walked off, calling over his shoulder, "Don't take it personal, Howlette!"_

 _James stared at the papers as he smoked his cigar by the tents. He stared at the papers as he packed his suitcase. He put the paper in his pocket, and instead stared at the two men across the campsite, laughing freely._

 _Steve and Bucky. Now there were two kind-hearted, loyal, brave soldiers. He'd never seen any pair like them. And he'd never met a man like him before. They were everything the rumors said and more._

 _And he was leaving them without a word. He wasn't the goodbye type. It was better if they figured he never grew attached, and this move meant nothing to him, than suspect he was, deep down, a good man. He wanted them to forget about him, even though he'd never forget them._

 _Two weeks later in a bar in Australia, a headline on a newspaper caught his eye._

 _Captain America Dead!_

 _It took everything had not to run all the way to Europe, or New York, or wherever the hell Rogers was. He couldn't be dead. He was god damned Captain America. He was a_ hero! _And heroes didn't die._

 _A month later he learned Bucky Barnes had died along with him, and that was the last straw. He pulled himself from the army, from any work at all. He went rogue. Because if this was a world where men like Steve Rogers and James Barnes died and James Howlettes lived, it was a screwed up world that he didn't want any part of._

 _A decade passed._

 _Then a few more._

 _And then he found the X-Men. He finally found a place to stay, with people like him. He couldn't help but think the Steve would have liked this place._

 _And just like so many years before, he was at a bar when a nearby stranger's newspaper headline caught his eye:_

 _Captain America Lives!_

 _Logan laughed to himself, putting a few bills on the counter and leaving. Steve Rogers was alive. The first thing Logan was going to do was track down his captain, but first he had to attend some boring meeting at the school with some stupid group called the "Avengers."_

* * *

 **4.3k** — **nearly a third of all of _One Slightly Murderous Family_** — **and I still want to write more! I guess " _I could do this all day_."**

 **Sorry for making any of you cry with that line. But there we go—my version of Steve, Bucky, and Logan in WWII. I don't know much about this era in the comics, so please let me know if I made any errors, and I'll fix them. I know I made a few on my Batman fic, but a fan politely pointed them out and I was able to revise a few chapters.**

 **Soooooooo what should I write next? More X-Men? Another Marvel group? More adventures in the Avengers Tower? LET ME KNOW!**

 **A/N: I've decided to do mass updates on Saturdays, where I update all my stories at once. Hopefully this works.** **Thanks so much for so many people following this story! You guys _ROCK!_**

 **See ya!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	10. Don't Call Me Sidekick

If there was one thing Sam hated, it was Captain America. Don't get him wrong—he loved Steve, and Cap. But he hated how, whenever he was seen at the Captain's side, he was labeled with a term that made his skin crawl.

Sidekick.

It was in headlines on newpapers and magazines: _Captain America and Flying Sidekick Save Manhattan! Patriot and Sidekick Stop Bank Heist! Superhero and Sidekick at it Again!_ It was infuriating! And Sam wasn't sure what he found worse: that fact that he had no one to blame, or the fact that no one could sympathize.

Steve was too good a person to get mad at. He _never_ looked at Sam or Falcon like a sidekick, and wouldn't dream of the day he would call his friend one. Sam could t point a finger a Steve, and he couldn't point one at the media. Who was he kidding? He _was_ a sidekick.

And it seemed he was the only one. You could say Clint followed Natasha on missions, but sidekick? No, definitely not. Hulk and Thor worked alone; Peter was young, but he didn't identify as a sidekick, and no one labeled him as one; Pietro and Wanda were their own duo; Vision and Black Panther and even the Winter Soldier—they all had an independent name for themselves. They were no one's sidekick.

So there Sam sat, invited to the Tower for some afternoon drinking with the team. Tony and Clint were once more trying to consume Thor's Asgardian alcohol (which was proven time and time again not to be wise), Natasha and Wanda were gossiping, Bruce and Steve we're going on about politics, and Pietro was studiously glaring at Vision. The latter was well aware of this, and uncomfortably fidgeted the glass in his hands as he stood at an intoxicated Tony's side.

Sam sat at the bar, sulking, and drinking. Sidekick. Who would have thought Sam Wilson to be dressing in spandex, and tripping over his own two feet in haste to run to someone's side when they snapped their fingers.

One of Tony's friends took a stool next to Sam, nodding in a brief greeting. Sam had seen him before; usually he was trying to keep Tony from doing something stupid, reckless, or idiotic. Tonight, he seemed to just want a drink.

"It's pretty hard, being a sidekick," he mumbled, more to himself.

Sam scoffed. " _You_ a sidekick? At least the papers call you by your name."

"At least your hero doesn't call you that to your face," the man shot back with a wry smile. "Besides, I've seen your military background. The Expo-Falcon trials and all. Pretty impressive.

"It's not often us sidekicks get together," said Sam honestly.

"We should start a club," the man fully noted as he drained his glass.

"Yeah. Only, 'Club for the under-appreciated super-heroes' doesn't have that good of a ring."

This earned a sigh from Sam's new friend. "People have no idea how hard being a sidekick is."

"Do you have any idea how many times I've had to push Steve out of the way of a bullet, or catch him when he jumps off of skyscapers and bridges? Sometimes I'm tempted to just let him go _splat_."

"It's worse when Tony's drunk and tries to operate machinery, because it's usually his suit. The only thing that keeps him from his workshop when he's drunk is more liquor." The two shared a laugh. The Iron Man's sidekick drained the last of his glass and set it on the table. He turned in his seat, and showed Sam his hand. Sam shook it eagerly.

"Sam Wilson."

"James Rhodes. My friends call me Rhodey. I think you and I'll get along pretty well."

Clint, cheeks rosy ad voice slurred, stumbled up. "Heya, sidekicks."

The two men turned, and spoke in unison, as if out of habit, "Don't call me sidekick."

* * *

 **I feel like this friendship could be one of my favorites in the Avengers crew, and next to no one knows about this! So, with my author powers, I make thee canon!**

 **(Btw sorry for the shortness. Exams and finals and all that fun stuff.)**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	11. Disney

When Tony mentioned Disney, all hell broke loose. It was an innocent reference—not even something the patriotic stuck-up Steve Rogers could grill him about. It was when Clint was running around the kitchen in his socks screaming _Under the Sea_ at the top of his lungs when Tony off-handedly spoke, "Stupid Disney and their catchy sing-alongs."

Steve's head turned around so quickly, Tony concluded either Quicksilver gave him whiplash, or he was possessed. "Disney? The movie company?"

Tony cautiously gazed at the captain. "Yeah. . . ?"

"Wow!" Steve exclaimed. "I remember seeing their first movie!"

Clint, who slid into the kitchen just in the nick of time to hear this, doubled over laughing. "Dude, you're so _old_!"

Steve pouted. "I remember spending my allowance to go see _Snow White_ with—" Steve tore off down the hall. Tony, sensing something embarrassing and/or hilarious would ensue, quickly followed. He found Steve barreling into the small practice area Tony created for the team. (Mainly Natasha. She liked to kick ass a lot.) The Black Widow and the Winter Soldier were in the middle of an intense sparring session when Steve skidded to a halt in front of them. The pair froze mid-punch, eyeing the crazy-eyed super-soldier warily.

Steve spoke at a Pietro Maximoff rate, "Buck, guess what happened while I was frozen in ice and you were an assassin." Bucky blinked. Then he blinked again. _Practically everything?_ Barnes opened his mouth to reply when Steve plowed onward. "A butt-load of Disney movies, that's what!"

Then something rarer than Natasha telling a joke happened. Bucky gave a full on grin. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

* * *

And that's how Tony found the two an hour later in his private movie theater. (Yes, Tony has his own screening room in his tower. Why? Because "I'm freakin' Tony Stark, and I can do what I want.") It wasn't quite a movie theater, really. Only a couch, chairs, and a projector. Trying to get Tony to admit this was like trying to give a cat a bath.

"Guys," Tony deadpanned, "are you actually going to marathon _every Disney movie ever?_ There's like—a bajillion."

"Tony," Steve said with utmost seriousness. "If it takes a week, then so be it." Bucky, from his cocoon of blankets on the couch, nodded in stubborn agreement.

The billionaire huffed, turned on his heel, and stalked out the door. "Nerds."

* * *

The two soldiers intently watched _Snow White_ once more (decades under ice and Hydra's meddling made the classic a bit foggy in their minds). It was like being back at home; back when they were just two kids a few years before the war broke out, back when a colored moving picture was something from the future. When they watched _Pinocchio_ , Steve frowned at the line "I've got no strings on me." It sounded awfully familiar to something a genocidal robot said not too long ago. Bucky found the line poetic and a bit more personal.

Tony checked in on them at Fantasia to make sure they were still alive (it had been a few hours at this point), and was thoroughly shocked to see them enjoying a wordless movie. "Tony, this was what Buck and I grew up on. Only it was in black and white."

"And real people," Bucky put in. Tony rolled his eyes once more and left. He never really liked Disney as a child. Perhaps having Howard Stark, the realist, pessimist, and scientist as a father kind of dampened the magic of it all. That, and he was only an only child, bbut he grew up on science, not pixie dust.

Steve and Bucky loyally sat through _Dumbo_ and _Bambi_ , the latter of which had the two wondering how a children's movie could be so dark. If anything, it made them respect Disney more; each movie had its own message to get across, and the stories were meaningful.

It was when they were quietly singing the chorus of one of the _Cinderella_ songs that Clint dashed into the room, collapsing in front of the couch. Sitting criss-cross on the floor, Clint happily sang along. Exchanging a look, the two on the couch shrugged, and continued to sing with the archer.

* * *

By _Alice in Wonderland_ , the three were starving. They contemplated temporarily pausing their marathon. Clint shook his head and pulled out his phone. "I got this, _mi amigos_." Shortly after Alice fell into the rabbit hole, the door to the screening room swung open.

Wanda stumbled in. "What's the emergency?" Her brother came through the door next, holding a fresh pizza and looking equally confused.

"Great!" Clint exclaimed, holding out his hands. "Gimme a slice."

Wanda's mouth hung open in shock. "Did you just make us go get you a—"

" _Shhhhhh_. You're missing the movie." In less than a second Pietro was sitting on the floor next to Clint, surrounded by pillows and blankets and handing out slices of pizza to the watchers. Steve shot Wanda an apologetic glance. With a sigh, she joined the marathon, sitting next to her brother.

 _Peter Pan_ was a thrill with the current viewers. Pietro and Clint were awful singers, but that didn't stop the two from pitching in to every song. At certain moments, Pietro would quote a line and look at his sister expectantly. Amused but acting like it was torture, Wanda would say whatever followed. "Disney's every kid's childhood!" Pietro spoke proudly when questioned how they knew so much.

Clint's phone was whipped out once again at _The Lady and the Tramp_. The whole scene with the spaghetti was cute, but Pietro ate half the pizza, and the group could really go for some Italian. . . . Bruce was tasked with picking up their order from across the street. He entered just as _Sleeping Beauty_ began, arms loaded with food that Pietro quickly distributed. Although Bruce insisted he had work to do, Clint insisted that he was their "hostage." The scientist took up one of the chairs, accepting a blanket and a small to-go container of pasta.

In Steve's opinion, that _Sleeping Beauty_ movie couldn't have ended quick enough. Bucky made a joke about a half an hour in that Steve was like Aurora, and the jokes for the next hour were endless.

* * *

 _101 Dalmatians, The Sword in the Stone, The Jungle Book, The AristoCats, Robin Hood_ —they all passed the same: horrible signing from Clint and Pietro, unwavering attention from Steve and Bucky, an occasional irritated but fond sigh from Wanda and Bruce, and Clint's phone ordering friends to retrieve food. They successfully "recruited" Natasha (and the large bags of chips and candy bars she brought with her) on their non-stop marathon after _The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh._ She grabbed a pillow and sat next to Clint, claiming she was only here because no one else tolerable was in the tower.

 _The Fox and the Hound_ was particularly tough for two members. Steve and Bucky enjoyed it at first— _"We'll be friends forever, won't we?" "Yeah, forever."_ —but it soon became apparent that this story wasn't too far from their own. Tod the fox and Copper the hound dog grew up, and Copper became a skilled hunting dog. It was almost as if the story were about Bucky and Steve. Steve glanced at his life-long pal with worry as things got particularly rough, but Bucky seemed to be handling this quite well. When the movie ended, and the two animal pals were friends again, Bucky was a bit tense and thoughtful, but for the most part okay.

The next movie, _The Little Mermaid_ was, for some reason, Clint's favorite. He sang the loudest and laughed the loudest. By the time the first song was over, the archer begging Natasha to go with him for Halloween as Ariel. She, of course, denied, probably not the first time. Shortly in to the film, Wanda whispered into her brother's ear. He took off, and then returned with two Avengers in his grasp: Thor and Vision.

"It's a story about someone learning about humans, right? I figured these two would enjoy." Thor did enjoy the movie greatly, sitting in front of the right side of the couch, next to Natasha. The speedster glared daggers at Vision when he took a seat next to Wanda.

With _Beauty and the Beast_ , came the endless Hulk and Natasha jokes. Those were quickly put to an end when Natasha made it clear who they were joking with. _Aladdin_ and all its humor soon followed.

* * *

 _The Lion King_ nearly led to the destruction of the screening room. It was a rambunctious movie, with the songs, setting, and plot. Thor liked this movie, and voiced that he wished Loki could be here to watch. The Asgardian thought his brother would be a great Scar. When the song _Hakuna Matata_ began to play, the usual vocalists attempted to get the others to join in. Wanda evenualy caved in to her brother's pleas, and Vision soon followed. Steve and Bucky were next to join, though their singing was much quieter than the rest. Bruce rolled his eyes, but gave in. All that was left was Natasha.

Clint grinned, leaning into his friend's face, urging her to sing at least a word or two. _"It means no worries, for the rest of your days!"_

"Stop it, Barton—"

 _"It's our problem free. . . ."_

"I'm not singing you idio—"

 _"Philosophy. . . ."_

The room suddenly went quiet as Natasha leapt at Barton, pinning him to the ground painfully. Not an I-want-to-hurt-you painful, but more of a remember-your-place painful. "I don't sing," she ground out through gritted teeth, letting Clint go.

He winced in pain, but weakly finished, _"Hakuna matata. . . ."_

* * *

They were thoroughly enjoying _Pocahontas_ , until they reached that song. Steve couldn't name it; it was the one about the wind. Things were going nicely, though. The song's message was nice, the music was pleasant, and Steve thought he heard a rustling from outside the door.

"Did you guys hear that?" A few scattered nods answered his question.

 _"But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger, you'll learn things you never knew you never knew. . . ."_ the voice from the film continued to sing. Before someone could investigate the noise, the door swung open, and a fighting-suit-clad figure barreled in.

 _"Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon?"_ Wade cried loudly and dramatically to his stunned audience. _"Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?"_

Peter slowly entered after his uninvited plus-one, half a dozen large bags of candy under his arms. "Sorry, guys. He read the invitation text before I did and he—"

 _"Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains?"_

Peter glared. "Wade, shut up. You're not even suppose to be here."

 _"Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?"_

* * *

 _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ passed without incident, and aside from over-enthusiastically singing the songs to _Hercules, Mulan, and Tarzan_ , things were going smoothly. Unlike what the Avengers thought, Wade was surprisingly good at marathons. He even managed to keep his mouth shut during most of the non-singing parts.

"Aw, yeah!" Wade cried when the next movie was _The Emperor's New Groove_. "I love this guy! he breaks the fourth wall almost as much as I do!"

 _Lilo and Stich_ came next. It was a short, sweet movie, but most of the group—especially those from the beginning—were starting to feel the effects of the non-stop Disney marathon. It had been . . . how many hours now? _Treasure Planet_ was Pietro's—and, syrprisingly, Peter's—favorite. When they both exclaimed this, they high-fived. Steve had to admit, the rebellious vibe from this movie was a refreshing change.

 _Brother Bear, Meet the Robinsons,_ and _The Princess and the Frog_ were laugh-out-loud comedies with lovable characters and respectful messages they got across. Steve was glad that he and Buck started the marathon. Now all his team (and an extra mercenary) were enjoying a relaxing day watching family movies. Well, his whole team minus one.

 _Tangled_ brought more classic sing-alongs, and _Wreck-It Ralph_ was an interesting concept to Steve, with all the technology and gaming. As they brought up the next movie, they discussed (argued) which ones were their favorites (the best). Once more the door swung open. Tony, now wearing a different outfit than when Steve last saw him, looked rather annoyed. _Has it been a day already? More?_

"Could you guys keep it down? I'm trying to work."

"Join us!" Clint screamed. Pietro, Wade, and Peter began to beg him to join. Tony shook his head firmly.

"It's not that bad," Bruce said from his chair. A few others nodded in agreement. Before Tony could protest, Pietro snuck behind him. In the blink of an eye, the door was closed and Tony was on the couch, wrapped in blankets to keep him from escaping.

"Not cool!" Tony squirmed, trying to break free. "Dammit, Pietro, get me out of here!"

With a devious grin, Pietro started the next movie. Tony had seen his fair share of Disney movies in his childhood. He just never really liked them. Maybe it was because of his dad (like most of his problems were), or because no one told him to believe in magic when he was little, or maybe it was just him. But surrounded by his teammates (and Wade, he noticed), he decided it wouldn't be too bad. He hadn't seen one of these movies since he was a kid. If anything, it would entertain him making fun of Barton's singing.

* * *

 _Frozen_ was unanimously everyone's top pick of the night. Steve and Bucky were mildly alarmed that every person in the room (except Vision, Thor, and Tony) knew every word to every song.

"Dude," Clint said as if it were obvious. "You can't be on this planet and not know the words!"

"What did you think, Tony?" Peter asked curiously. A few eyes turned to Tony, the non-believer of Disney movies.

He gave a shrug. "Meh. It was alright, I guess."

Peter raised a fist in the air. "That means he likes it!"

A few cheers, a few sidebar conversations, and a whole lot of chatter. Tony did like it, secretly. He wasn't sure whether it was seeing Earth's mightiest heroes signing the same songs three-year-old girls sing, or the fact that he was with his team that changed his mind. Maybe he didn't like Disney because they were _family_ movies. Maybe, to feel the magic, you had to be with your family, and he never was until now. Either way, when Tony finally worked himself free of his blanket straightjacket, he stayed for the next movie. "What's next, Petey?"

Peter was at the front of the room putting on the next film. "Big Hero 6," replied the Spider-Man. "It's about this team kind of like the Avengers, and it's got all kinds of cool tech. You're gonna _love_ this one Tony." Thor and Bruce were fighting over the last container of cold spaghetti, Clint was still trying to get Nat to sing _Love is an Open Door_ ("C'mon, Nat! You sang it on that mission with me!"), and the twins, Vision, and Wade were arguing over what was the best Disney movie ever.

Tony was sure he would.

* * *

 **I've been wanting to write this for a long time! Based off the headcanon where Steve and Bucky were Disney nerds back when Disney was new, and it just kind of went from there! I tried to include as many Disney classics as I could (and in chronological order), so sorry if I left one or two out. Also, am I the only one who feels like Tony never got the Disney experience as a kid? I tried to put that in there, too.**

 **I don't feel like I need to say it, but nope, I don't own anything Disney or Marvel.**

 **As always, views, reviews, and request are my lifeblood! Thanks for so much support on this story you guys!**

 **Stay awesome!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	12. Father's Day

Fathers Day was a touchy subject at the tower. Touchy, as in most of them didn't have father's.

Thor was not on speaking terms with Odin. Steve and Bucky's dads were almost certainly dead. Nobody knew if the Maximoffs, Sam, Bruce, Clint, or Natasha even had dads; nobody wanted to ask, and cause any uncomfort. Tony, Steve, Bucky, Peter—all their dads were dead. So it was a bit of an awkward morning, to say the least.

And it was only more awkward when Tony ran into Vision in the hall. Vision was a peculiar person—or android, or AI, or whatever—so most of the Avengers saw him as a kind of pet. Not in a degrading way; he was naive, curious, and questioning, and had a tendency to follow people he liked around. (Especially Wanda, much to Pietro's annoyance.) Staring face-to-face with Vision, Tony wasn't sure he could name someone who hated the new Avenger.

"Uh, hey." Tony's relationship with Vison was awkward. That was the only word for it. JARVIS, though not entirely human, was the closest Tony had to a real friend for years. And along came Vision, who was most definitely not JARVIS, and Tony couldn't help but feel a little spiteful. It wasn't the guys fault, Tony reminded himself constantly.

"I have something for you," Vision spoke, holding out a folded piece of paper.

Tony took the paper, opening it. Inside was written neatly: _Happy Father's Day_. Tony frowned. "I—I don't understand. Vision, I'm not your dad."

Vision gave a small shrug. "Well, you were one of the men who created me. I suppose you are something of a father to me, correct?" Tony stared at the card, then to the android. "I gave one to Doctor Banner, also. I have come to the understanding he also had a hand in my creation."

"Thanks," was all Tony could say. Vision nodded politely, continuing down the hall. Tony could only hold the simple card in his hand and stare at it. His first Father's Day card.

* * *

Clint, Natasha, Sam, Steve, Bucky, Thor, and Bruce enjoyed the day together. The group was holed up in one of the kitchens in the tower, their main focus the bar. They had already cleaned out one of the bottles—not speaking, not questioning, just drinking together in peace—when Peter and Pietro came storming in. Well, Pietro came first, began to speak too quickly for anyone to comprehend, and _then_ Peter came, out of breath and wheezing. He was soon followed by Wanda, who was in much better shape than the Spider-teen.

Clint was only staying for the morning, more to support Natasha than anything. Afterwards, he was heading home to his own kids. He raised a hand to stop Pietro; the archer and Wanda were about the only ones who could stop him when he got going. "Peter, you go first." Pietro crossed his arms and sighed, muttering about how his name was technically Peter, too.

"Pietro is just drawing awful doodles in his card. I think you should write something meaningful."

"First of all," Pietro said defensively, "they aren't awful. They're awesome. Second, so what? You draw your cards, I'll draw mine."

Natasha interrupted the argument. "No offense, but who are you two writing to?"

Peter shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly. "Well, I kinda write to my Aunt May on Mother's and Father's Day, becase she's kind of both, I guess." This was met with a few "Aw"s and a dramatic gagging from Pietro.

"What about you?" Clint asked, taking a swig of his drink. Pietro smirked approaching Clint. He dropped a card next to Clint's beer, and the archer stared at it with touched shock. A moment later, Wanda followed her brother's action, doing the same with her card.

"Happy Father's Day?" Pietro was now grinning at the priceless face of Clint Barton. Wanda was smirking and Clint's drinking pals were smiling, too. Now it was Peter who was gagging.

"Thanks, guys."

Pietro shrugged. He dashed to the door, but stopped suddenly. He peered his head in. "None of your guys know Magneto's address, do you?"

Bruce frowned, turning Vision's card over idly in his hands. "Why do you need Magneto's address?"

"To send my card." At this statement, Sam choked on his beer. Indeed, Peter and Wanda each had an extra card.

"You—you guys are his. . . . _What?!_ "

* * *

Peter awkwardly approached Tony. With confusion, he noted Tony already had a card in his hand. "Uh, Tony?" He narrowly missed called Tony "Mr. Stark" again, which Tony complained made him feel old.

Tony jumped at the voice, but smiled. "Hey, Pete. What's up?"

Peter bit his lip. "I, uh, I—I just wanted you. . . ." Giving up using his words, Peter trust the card he made out from behind his back.

Tony blinked. Two cards in one day? That was more than he got in every Father's Day combined. "For me?" he asked, standing from his chair.

"Yeah."

Tony accepted the card, but he didn't open it. Instead, he drew Peter into a hug. "Thanks, kid."

* * *

It was lunch, and Peter still had two cards left. "Jeez, kid. How many dads do you have?"

All the Avengers were gathered around the table, eating and eyeing Spider-Man's cards.. Peter shrugged. "One's for Nick."

"Fury?" asked Sam incredulously. "Nick Fury? You're talking about a different Nick, right?"

"No. I mean Nick." A few glances were cast around the room and Peter hastily added, "He formed the Avengers, so he's kind of like your dad, too. Besides, I've been seeing him a lot, lately. Y'know, he kind of watches over all us high school superheroes."

"'High school superheroes'?" questioned Steve.

Peter tilted his head. "I didn't tell you? SHIELD has me and some other kids go to high school together. The whole 'secret identity,' 'normal life' thing."

"Sounds cool," Bucky put in quietly.

"Who's the other one for? Someone else in SHIELD?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. Coulson." A silence fell across the room. Peter looked around curiously. "What?"

"Peter," Tony began softly, "Coulson's dead. He died in the Battle of New York." The other Avengers waited for the young man's reaction with baited breath. Peter only looked more confused.

"No he's not."

Steve sighed. He was in denial. "He kind of is, Pete."

"No. . . . I just saw him last week."

"That's impossible," Thor declared loudly. "Son of Coul is deceased."

"'Son of Coul' is my _teacher_ at my _high school_. He gave me a pop quiz last week!" A silence fell across the room again, this time for another, completely different reason. Suddenly, Peter gasped. "Shit—you guys didn't know? Fury's gonna kill me!"

* * *

 **Ta da! Some Avengers fluff about Father's Day! I decided to throw in some Ultimate Spider-Man references, because why not? And you know what's coming up after an ending like that . . . PHIL!**

 **See you guys next week! Stay awesome!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	13. The Agents of SHIELD

**A/N: This chapter contains characters from the TV show Agents of SHIELD. While it will contain minimal/no spoilers, it might be confusing for some people who have not seen the show. All you really need to know are the main characters, but if you don't, it won't kill you. Hopefully I made their personalities clear.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Phil Coulson started his day with three cups of coffee. Yes, you heard right, that was three cups. Sadly, Phil didn't consume all three.

And here's why.

At six in the morning sharp, Phil was already clad with his suit, charming personality, and in his opinion, greatly styled hair. He would make his way to the kitchen where the coffee maker was obviously located. After brewing his first cup, the next stop on his list was the lab, usually to pick up files he asked Fitzsimmons to prepare for him the previous night.

And that was where the first cup wound up no longer being drinkable.

It was something of a game, making it through the lab; you never knew what you would face. On Mondays, typically Simmons was fixing up a gun of some sort that would go off as soon as Coulson entered the room. His coffee usually wound up on his newly shined shoes. Fridays were worse, though; Fitz usually created a small explosion while testing alien chemicals.

Back to his room to change, and back to the kitchen.

Second cup in his hand, Phil would typically seek out May to confer with over some business or another. And typically, this would be when Skye would see SHIELD's director walk outside her door. She would then drag him into an intense, long conversation, ranging anywhere from proof as to where Hydra was plotting to attack next, to theories about how Fury lost his eye. Her best one, and Phil's personal favorite, was that it was during a lightsaber duel. Her theory was surprisingly well supported.

And by the end Phil's second cup was ice cold. Phil would not stoop as low as to drink cold coffee. So he would throw it out and make his third, and final, cup of coffee. It was his final because whoever came up to him to speak next got a very un-Phil-like glare that made them immediately turn the other way. No one messed with Director Coulson after his third cup of coffee. Maybe the first two, but not the third.

This process usually took around thirty minutes, and was only just the beginning of his day.

A day that got so much more interesting when he got a call from Tony Stark. Yes, he still had Stark's number, more out of a need to have information than to actually call him. He—and all the Avengers—thought he was dead. Most even thought Fury was dead, too. Hesitantly, Phil pressed _ACCEPT_.

There was a lot of rustling in the background. Phil's best guess was that it was on speaker, and there were multiple people in the room. No one said anything. Finally, Phil bit his lip and asked, "Hello?"

He yanked the phone away from his ear, because at least five people started to scream anything from obscenities to nonsense. The loudest, no surprise, was Barton, screaming, " _YOU MOTHERFUCKER_."

* * *

He knew that Fury's plan trusting Parker was flawed. The kid couldn't keep his mouth shut if you stapled and glued it closed. And that was why a plane was coming to SHIELD's new headquarters. SHIELD's ultimately secret and totally non-existent base. And God, would he kill Parker if he told anyone where it was located.

The team was a blur the morning he announced the Avengers would be visiting. Fitz and Simmons nearly died, Skye—Daisy, now, he reminded himself—dashed to her quarters to get any memorabilia she wanted signed, and May almost smiled. Coulson was a little disturbed by the last one.

Phil stood outside the entrance to the base, waiting in the snow with his jacket pulled tight. A plane came into view, and it slowly began to descend. He braced himself for the onslaught that would come. And indeed it did. Before the plane had fully landed, Clint and Tony were already running across the snow, Peter close in tow. Clint reached Phil first, nearly tackling him to the ground with his hug. Then came Tony, who did topple all three to the ground.

"I'm _really_ sorry, Phil," the agent could hear Peter say apologetically. Phil couldn't see much but archer and billionaire. Phil managed to detach the two from himself, rise from the ground, and brush himself off before the questions came, along with the rest of the team. Natasha even gave Phil a hug, and Steve exchanged a handshake and a smile with the once-dead man. Thor was not on Midgard at the present, but Phil figured he would be greatly joyed that "Son of Coul" was alive. Four new figures came into Phil's view, but he already knew who they were: the Maximoffs, the android named Vision, and the Winter Soldier himself.

"It's great to see you again, Agent Coulson," Bruce spoke kindly as he shook hands.

Phil laughed to himself. "Actually, it's _Director_."

"Where's the director?" Peter asked, turning around to look for Fury.

"No," Phil quickly corrected. The other Avengers listened curiously. "I mean _I'm_ the director now."

There were a few blank faces at this, as they began to registered what their friend had said. And then came the pour of each person talking over the next. Question upon question came pouring in—How did you survive? Why didn't you tell us? What is this place? Is SHIELD still around?—and Phil waved each one off with his hand. "How about we chat inside? It's freezing out here." This was replied with a few nods. "Besides, I want you to meet my team."

* * *

May, Bobbi, and Hunter were the first to greet the Avengers. To most of the Avengers' shock, Natasha and Clint stepped ahead of the bunch, greeting the three as old friends. Natasha whispered something into May's ear, no doubt something derogatory about another team member, and they _smiled_. Freaky. The team of super-heroes looking between the two, it seemed obvious they were spy buddies or something. The two deadly agents quickly wandered off, talking about top secret SHIELD missions and all sorts of things the Avengers weren't privy to hear.

Clint waltzed up to Bobbi, giving her a flirtatious smile. "Hey Bobbi. 'Sup?" He then turned and gave a deadly glare at the other man. "Hunter."

"Clint," the agent replied with a slight accent, his voice equally as cold.

Bobbi rolled her eyes. "Really, boys? You're still not over what happened?" The two men crossed their arms and pouted, much like children. With a sigh, Bobbi turned back to Coulson. "Don't worry. I'll take care of these two babies." She said a brief farewell to the team of super-heroes, and led the two men further into the bunker.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "What happened between those guys?"

Phil shook his head, smiling. He tried to quell his excitement; he was talking to Captain America again—and standing right next to him was Bucky Barnes! "Trust me on this one. You don't wanna know." Confused as to what Clint could possibly have done, the remaining Avengers followed Phil further into SHIELD's new headquarters.

* * *

One by one, the Avengers were led off into the base by distractions. First, Natasha and Clint by their agent buddies. Now, approaching the lab, it seemed the scientists were going to be staying a while.

Fitz and Simmons were nearly dying when they met _the_ Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. It was like every one of their dreams had come true. And when Tony complemented them on their lab and top-notch equipment, Phil thought the two would implode. The Fitz and Simmons were farther impressed when Peter began to ask them questions; they weren't expecting to be teaching anything today—much less than to Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner. Tony quietly pulled Vision from the group, delighted to show Fitzsimmons the android he and Bruce had created. The three scientists and Vision—their hostage who was now being inspected by Simmons—waved Coulson and their group off, much too focused on how Fitz created the Night-Night gun.

Daisy successfully snagged the Maximoffs as they reached the dormitories, and by the time Phil reached Mack in the director's office, the only remaining Avengers were Steve and Bucky. Phil sighed; there might not be many of Earth's Mightiest Heroes here to listen to Phil's story, but at least he could get his memorabilia signed.

* * *

"Do you think they ever get tired of it?"

Natasha shrugged. "They're men. Men hold grudges. It's what they do best."

Bobbi sighed once more, pinching the bridge of her nose. The three women were watching as Clint and Hunter had gone from arm-wrestling to full on wrestling. Clint expertly leapt to the table, picking up an empty mug and hurling it towards Bobbi's boyfriend/ex-husband's head. Hunter dodged the ceramic mug, and it smashed against the brick wall, shattering into hundreds of pieces. Bobbi frowned. "That was Coulson's cat mug. He's not going to be happy."

"You think we should we stop them? They've been at it for an hour now."

May smirked as Clint got slammed in the face by a portfolio. The papers from the thick folder went flying around the room. "Let them fight. Now I don't have any paperwork to do."

* * *

"So you were bitten by a radioactive spider?" Fitz questioned, thoroughly intrigued by Peter's story. The Spider-Man was perched on the ceiling, showing off his powers and recounting his blueprints for new web-shooters. Fitz, who was holding a quick-sketch of Peter's idea, was nodding thoughtfully. "Y'know, I think I could increase the capacity by forty-percent if we exchange these components with our tech."

Peter fell from the ceiling, landing almost silently in a crouch on Fitz's desk. The SHIELD scientist grinned, still admiring the super abilities. "Y'know, Fitz, I think I like you."

Simmons was orbiting around Vision, who was sitting obediently on a stool, watching all the foreign instruments. Bruce was studying some of Simmons' theories, and Tony was staring at Vision with pride. "It's nothing, really."

"'Nothing'?" echoed Simmons. She looked up from her clipboard. "You created human intelligence!"

Another shrug from Tony, who was loving being adored. He waved his hand nonchalantly. "Ah, it was a breeze. All we needed was a little alien tech and my AI I created—"

"Jarvis!" Simmons cut in. "I read all about him. It was amazing, how he was almost entirely human, save the body."

Tony gave a weak smile. He had mostly moved on from Jarvis, but he would never entirely get passed losing his friend. Vision's surprise on Father's Day had shown Tony that perhaps Vision could be a good friend, too. Jarvis would be happy to know he contributed to something extraordinary. "Yeah. He was pretty cool."

Simmons was now inches away from Vision's face, staring at the gem in his forehead. Vision was staring at Simmons with wide, innocent eyes, unsure of what to do in a situation like this. "And this gem is what pulled it all together?" A nod from Tony. "What is it?"

Tony shrugged, just as lost as she was. "I think Thor called in an 'Infinity Stone' or something. There's, like, six of them, supposedly. One Loki used the create that whole New York fiasco. The 'Tesseract.' Another Thor said was called the 'Aether.'"

Simmons nodded, jotting down notes as Tony explained. "This is all very fascinating. It nearly trumps all of our Inhuman troubles we've been dealing with."

"What're 'Inhumans'?" Tony asked. There was a sudden crash, cutting Jemma's reply short. On the ground was Vision, caught in a web of wires and tubes. Apologizing, Simmons quickly rushed to his aid.

* * *

As far as superheroes went, Wanda was Daisy's favorite. Not only was her fashion pretty sick, but her powers were _amazing_. And most of all, she was just as scared of her powers as Daisy was.

Meeting the twins was a bit of a blur. Literally. Pietro was gone before Daisy could blink, and back again before she could ask Wanda what happened. Daisy stared at the two as Wanda rolled her eyes and Pietro gave the agent a wink. Daisy gave a little laugh. "Alright, I'll bite. What was that? Are you a teleporter?"

"No," Wanda answered for her arrogant brother. "He's just fast."

Another gust of wind, and the silver-haired teen was at Daisy's side. "Really fast." He was gone again with another flicker, and all Daisy could hear was, " _This place isn't_ that _big!_ "

Daisy turned to Wanda. "Did he just run through the _entire_ compound?"

"Most likely," replied the sister with a casual shrug. "So, what do yo do here?"

"That's . . . kinda complicated." Wanda only raised her eyebrows, waiting for Daisy to go on. "Well, I'm not sure how much of this is classified, but I guess I could give you a run through. . . ."

And two hours later they sat in Daisy's quarters, pillows surrounding them like they were in some sort of bizarre sleepover. "So . . . it's normal?"

"Totally," Daisy said earnestly. "Sure, you're not an Inhuman, but anybody with powers like these are usually terrified. I know I was when I got mine."

Wanda shrugged, thankful for someone that finally understood. Tony, Clint, and Natasha were human. Bruce's best advice was to try and control it, but that was hard when you weren't even sure what you were controlling. "Pietro was always so good with is powers. He could run fast. He loved what he could do."

Daisy gave a sympathetic shrug. "It's easier for some people." She then leaned in closer to Wanda. "And between you and me, what you could do is a _lot_ cooler than running in circles.

"Hey!" Pietro cried indignantly, appearing beside Daisy. "I heard you."

Daisy smiled widely. It was hard not to around a person light Pietro, who was always on the move. "Sorry we were talking about you behind you back."

This only caused Pietro to grin. "So, you were talking about me?" he asked smoothly. Daisy gave a small laugh. Luckily, Wanda saved her from answering the question.

"Aw," she cooed. "Does Petey have a crush?" Pietro's cheeks suddenly turned a dark crimson, contrasting sharply with the pale skin and fair hair. He was gone in a flash. Daisy laughed freely now, the embarrassed and horrified face of Pietro still etched into her mind. Clutching her sides, Daisy heard Wanda call out, "That's what you get for flirting in front of your sister!"

* * *

"You have a fan club?" Bucky asked dubiously.

Steve shrugged, silently saying _I didn't ask for it_. Phil answered for Steve. "He sure does. Not—not that I would know, or anything."

Mack shook his head. "Coulson's the president of it."

"Co-president," Coulson said, glaring at his peer. Things had gotten slightly off topic; they were talking about Tahiti, then Phil mentioned Steve never signed his trading cards, then Bucky got curious.

"Do I have anything?" Bucky asked, almost shyly. Phil liked Bucky. He could tell Mack—and even some of the Avengers still—looked at Bucky like he were a ticking time-bomb. SIELD's director only saw James Buchanan Barnes.

"Sure. Some people even like you more."

Steve scoffed playfully. "Oh, yeah? Name someone."

"The other co-president." Phil replied coolly. "He's a pretty big Captain America buff. Maybe even as much as me."

"Wow," Steve breathed. _That_ was saying something. "Who is he?"

"You might not know him. He's another super-person—not a hero, exactly. Wade Wilson. He mostly goes by—"

" _Deadpool?_ "

* * *

The trip was planned for the day. The Avengers stayed for two weeks. By the end of the stay, Clint and Hunter had a combined total of three broken arms, two sprained ankles, four black eyes, and twenty-three broken fingers. May, Bobbi, and Natasha exchanged numbers, "For when the boys are being exceptionally annoying." Vision was, as Tony put it, "The adorable lab guinea pig," that Simmons worked nonstop on trying to comprehend. Peter had eighteen new gadgets that he couldn't wait to show Wade, and Fitz was caught trying to buy two hundred spiders, "for science." Also, the entire lab went up in flames twice, once because of a particularly nasty round of Go-Fish.

Daisy and Wanda were now connected at the hip, and wouldn't stop teasing Pietro about his horrible pick-up line gone wrong. And rather than detecting new Inhumans, contacting the white house, and catching up on his paperwork, Phil did the responsible thing. He, Steve, and Bucky were holed up in Phil's office, trolling the Captain America forums and criticizing authentic Cap relics for sale. Mack went in every now and then, just to make sure they were still alive.

Wade was severely disappointed that they wouldn't tell him their location. They insisted it was the ultimate top-secret, but he desperately wanted to join the mini Captain America fan club meeting. The only reason the Avengers even left SHIELD headquarters was because of a cryptic message from Wade, telling them he couldn't wait to eat some of Coulson's famous chocolate chip cookies. They didn't think much of it, until they realized that they never told him they were eating cookies. The Avengers rushed home, and SHIELD went into an immediate thirty-day lockdown, praying the mercenary was bluffing. Wade never bluffed.

* * *

 **I've been waiting to write about Phil and the Agents of SHIELD crew forever!**

 **I hope you guys liked it! I tried to include as many interactions as possible. As for what I write about next . . . that's up to you guys! I have a whole list of suggestions, but if any of you have extraordinary ideas, they might come sooner! Thanks sooo much for your comments! I smile at each and every one, and they are honestly the best parts of my day.**

 **This story, as of now, reached roughly 12,576 views, 76 follows, and 75 favorites! I honestly never imagined this story for being do huge! For those of you since the beginning, I can't believe you're still here! And for those who are only just joining, thanks for reading my story!**

 **Also, I might've made a new ship. If it goes viral, YOU SAW IT HERE FIRST!**

 **Stay awesome, my dudes!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	14. Leftleftleftleft

Steve had taken it too damn far.

Something that many people thought Captain America lacked was humor, with his somber expressions and professional disposition. That, Sam could insist, was anything but true. The super-soldier had a knack for pranks and jokes, and had a sharp mind that forgot nothing. At some points, he even recruited Bucky to help him with his dirty work. The Winter Soldier was much more reserved, but Sam could only imagine Brooklyn and all the terror they caused in their childhood.

That being said, Sam didn't think how he could top it off. The whole "On your left" joke had subsided a bit since Sam one-upped the two soldiers. They had seemingly left Sam alone. On patrol, Sam was musing over this. Steve surely wasn't one to give up, even if it was a simple inside joke. Flying high over New York with his Falcon gear, Sam wondered it he should prepare for another attack.

That's when he heard it. The humming he had come to know as Stark's Iron Man suit in flight. He had only a second before Tony was beside Wilson. Sam gave Tony a glance, and saw a very familiar figure hanging onto the billionaire's back.

"Steve?" Sam called out over the high winds. "What the—"

"On your left!"

"Damn you, Rogers!" Sam called as Tony and Steve sped forward, passing the pissed veteran.

* * *

"Thanks, man. I really appreciate this," Sam said earnestly to the young Avenger.

Pietro waved a hand. "No problem, man. Just. . . ."

Sam glanced at the speedster's extended hand. Sighing, he stuffed a hand in his pocket. He pulled out aa twenty, and handed it to Pietro. "There. Go." In a flash, Pietro was gone.

Steve was enjoying his morning with his usual laps. He liked to get a few in before breakfast, to loosen up and clear his head. Sometimes Bucky joined, or Nat or Sam, but most often he ran alone. No one took a liking to his speed, endurance, and the time he chose to run.

That's when he heard it. A whooshing sound; wind ripping past your ear like you were going a hundred miles an hour. Only you weren't the one going so fast.

"On your left, Dorito!" came the over joyful voice of Pietro Maximoff. Steve sighed, knowing full well it was only a matter of time before this happened. A second later, he heard it again: "On your left!" Before Steve could say anything, another "On your left!" came.

Steve glared across the park, where Sam Wilson sat with a smug grin. "Really?" Steve panted, figuring if Sam couldn't hear him, he could read his lips and expression just fine.

"Left!"

Steve let out a long sigh, figuring it would just be best to concentrate on running. "Left!" Maybe he could block out the man. "Left!" It wasn't too— "Left . . . left . . . left . . . left. . . ."

* * *

 **Hey guys! The "One Your Left' joke ensues!**

 **A/N #1: First and foremost: this is quite a short chapter. That's because (drumroll please) I'm updating a Fourth of July chapter! I think you can assume what day I'm posting it. It's 1.5K, so hopefully that'll make up for the shortness.**

 **A/N #2: Reviews and prompts are greatly appreciated, thanks a ton, yada yada. You guys know what I'm gonna say. :)**

 **Stay awesome, my dudes!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	15. The Fourth of July

Tony was utterly outraged at Steven Rogers. " _What do you mean, your birthday's on the Fourth of July?!_ "

Steve bit his lip and shrugged, confused as to why his friend was acting the way he was. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"You're Captain _America_ and you literally share a birthday with _America_." The two were setting up for the party on the tower's roof, where they could set off fireworks and party late into the night. Last year, the group decided to spend the holiday separately. Tony was shocked that the lot of them stayed home, or went to a pub by themselves. He vowed upon hearing that that he would always force his friends to join in on celebrations. It didn't change when they recruited even more people to the team; nobody deserved to celebrate a holiday by themselves. Tony felt even worse now, knowing Steve spent his first twenty-first century birthday by himself.

A blur of speed broke the conversation. "Hey, where should I put these?"

Steve eyed the boxes of fireworks Tony had ordered, which Tony then ordered Pietro to pick up for him. "Tony, are you sure those are . . . legal?"

Tony waved the soldier off. "Totally. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I dunno, Tony," Pietro said suspiciously, setting the boxes down. "All the instructions are written in Chinese. That doesn't seem like a good sign."

"Don't you have to go tell your sister to stop kissing an android or something?"

" _What?_ " Pietro screeched, speeding off. Tony merely smirked; it sure was fun to wind the Maximoff brother up.

* * *

Clint tossed another mini-hotdog in his mouth. "Ten bucks that Tony blows off a finger before the day's over."

Natasha slapped his hand away as he reached for another one. He had a bad habit of eating all the food Natasha made before a party. Luckily, she had Wanda as back-up. As it turns out, the girl can make a mean batch of brownies. "Make it fifty, and we've got a deal."

Peter, who was sitting on the counter, only sighed. "Tony's making me light the fireworks. Says my spider-senses will help me keep my hand."

Clint screwed up his face in thought. "It doesn't work like that, does it?"

"Nope. Try telling Tony that."

"Pietro could help," Wanda suggested as she fluently dodged Natasha (who was stirring some batter) and put a pan in the oven. "He's fast." Peter slid off the counter, presumably off to find the speedster. "Where's Sam and Vision and T'Challa?" Wanda asked. Clint, Nat, Peter, and Wanda were on kitchen duty. Steve, Bucky, Tony, Bruce, and Pietro were setting up the roof. The other three weren't seen all day.

Clint gave a small gasp, like he was a five-year-old who was told he could eat as much cake as he wanted. "She doesn't know?" he whispered.

"Know what?"

Natasha smiled. "Recruitment."

* * *

"I want my own office," the man stated importantly. "And none of that 'You're the new guy so you can't do that' crap. Full responsibilities." He then added a moment later, "And dental."

Sam sighed. "Scott, you're in no place to bargain."

"But I'm Ant-Man! I'm an important asset to the team."

Sam shrugged. "You got a cool suit. We got lots of cool suits."

"And super-powers," Vision said quite happily.

Scott narrowed his eyes. He held his hands out in an _I give up_ manner. "Fine. I get it. I'm reliable. If I'm so reliable, then I might not join," he huffed.

The Falcon had to admit, Scott Lang was a child. But he knew how to operate Pym's particle suit perfectly, and he beat Sam Wilson with ease. (The latter Sam made sure no one knew of.) "You get to meet the Avengers."

If Scott had dog ears, they would had gone from drooping to pointed straight up. And his tail would be wagging. "Really? Like, Tony Stark and Captain America and the Maximoffs and Black Widow and Spider-Man and—"

"And us," T'Challa said, feigning a hurt tone.

Scott shrugged. "Yeah, yeah, Cat-Man, you're cool too." Then he turned back to Sam. "You got yourself a deal, Birdbrain! C'mon, what're you standing there for? Let's go! I wanna try on an Iron Man suit."

Sam patted Scott on the shoulder. "Just try not to break anything once we get there, okay? No explosions, no stealing, no sabotage—"

Scott was still rambling. "Is there a Bring You Kid to Work day? 'Cause Cassie would _love_ to meet Black Widow. Can I ask Cap to sign something? Or would that be rude? Do you think Tony would like to take a look at my suit? Do you think Pietro's quicker than the Flash? I think. . . ."

* * *

It was nearly dark when the trio arrived with the newest Avenger. Most of the tower's residents were on the roof, money in pockets and bids on the mind. So far, a total of five hundred dollars said Tony would loose a hand. Bruce was horrified when he overheard the bet taking place.

"That's awful! You're betting that Tony will lose a hand?"

Pietro shrugged. "It's not like he can't build one. I mean, look at Bucky, and that Phil Coulson guy. Tony would love to arm wrestle one of them with a super-arm."

"Besides," Natasha said easily, "only forty of the pot was put in by us. The rest was Tony himself." Bruce frowned. _Why would Tony do that?_ But then he realized—they were talking about Tony. The guy would do anything short of cutting his own hand off to build a prosthetic hand. And, let's face it, Tony didn't have the best luck.

The Avengers sat, reveling in their Fourth of July/Steve's birthday celebration. They were right in the middle of a debate over who would win in battle ("C'mon! Superman ain't got nothin' on Batman!") when their recruiters returned. Wanda gave a smile to Vision, and the android took a seat next to her. Pietro glared. T'Challa happily took a seat next to Steve, glaring over his shoulder at Sam. No doubt the two were clashing over their animal-themed super-hero aliases. Sam sang the Soft Fluffy Kitty song whenever he saw T'Challa, and the Black Panther wouldn't stop sending photos of pigeons and asking Sam if they were related. It was a mess.

Bruce looked at Sam expectantly. "So, I take it the guy turned you down?"

Sam gave a small laugh, smirking to himself. "Not exactly." Suddenly, something on the ground besides Sam started to grow. It was soon the size, shape, and everything of a human.

Tony stared, slack-jawed, and rose from his chair. He walked up to the grinning stranger and shook his hand. "Tony Stark."

"Scott Lang. Huge fan—of all of you." He looked around at some of the world's best super-heroes. "I mean—it's an honor, really. Thinks for thanking of me. Er, no. Uh, thanks for thinking of me." His face was red by the time he decided to stop stammering. Steve looked at Sam questioningly, asking the silent question: Is he good? A good guy, a good fighter, a good team member?

Sam patted Scott's shoulder in a friendly way. "He's the best guy I could find." A few welcomes were passed around, along with a few snacks. All they were waiting for was Peter, to light the fireworks.

"Uh, guys. . . ." Peter interjected nervously. He dashed up to the roof from the top floor, a slightly panicked look to him. The boy scratched the back of his head and stared at the ground.

Tony frowned, taking note of his young friend's distress. "What's up, Pete?"

"If—hypothetically—Wade were to somehow get news about this party, and if—once again, hypothetically—he were to bring four dozen grade-A militarized firecrackers from Ukraine, would that be a big enough crisis to call the police?"

Clint scoffed. "You're gonna call the cops on Deadpool? Dude, you're gonna need a SWAT team."

* * *

 **A/N #1: For those of you who celebrate the Fourth of July, Happy Fourth of July! For those of you who don't, have a great, happy day! Happy birthday America. (And, let's face it, Steve Rogers, probably.)**

 **A/N #2: On a bit more of a serious note, I feel like the partying of this holiday overshadows some of its importance. I know we have Veteran's and Memorial Day, but this is as good a day as any to celebrate our past/current veterans! Give someone you know who served (or just someone you love) a hug today!**

 **A/N #3: Scott Lang! Possibly one of my favorite MCU Avengers (or at least in the top ten).** **I only just realized I hadn't introduced him! So, ta da!**

 **A/N #4: Big shoutout to** nightmarehunter676 **for creating the _best ship name ever!_ Quakesilver! (Pietro and Daisy, from my Agents of SHIELD chapter.)**

 **Stay awesome, my dudes!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	16. Seriously, Quill! I Need This Guy's Arm!

Tony had seen some craziness in his lifetime. Since he was a child, his father was always pushing the boundaries of modern technology, making his projects seem like they belonged in the future. He was also raised constantly hearing his father sing praises about a twig guy from Brooklyn who got some medicine and became a one man army. Pretty crazy.

By his adult life, things only got crazier. He created a flying suit that could do anything he wanted, he met a fellow scientist who could turn into a multi-ton rage machine, said super-soldier returned from the grave, a Norse god of thunder walked through his halls, and he became a member of a super-secret organization that protects the world from aliens. Plus, he's seen what crazy Wade Wilson could do (and he wasn't talking about his powers.)

Tony had gotten accustomed to crazy. He and crazy had been the best of friends since childhood. Crazy was his middle name. (Not really. But how cool would that be?) But the word for when an alien ship crash lands into the Avengers' tower, piloted by a talking chipmunk and blaring _Hooked on a_ _Feelin'_? All that could come to mind was _crazy_.

* * *

It was a nice, sunny day. Peter was off somewhere in the city, swinging from skyscraper to skyscraper like a red-clad Tarzan. Scott Lang and Clint were in the lab with Bruce, who was trying to explain thermonuclear physics to them. Steve and Bucky and Sam and Nat were doing whatever it was soldiers did on their days off. Most of the Avengers were out, enjoying one of the few days where nothing bad happened. Tony himself was taking his newest model suit for a joyride, soaring high above the city. It was only a prototype, but Tony was just thinking to himself how he could revolutionize the suit's capability by compartmentalizing the reactor.

Then an explosion sounded, and Tony knew he jinxed himself by saying it was a perfect, quiet day.

He watched as some kind of ship entered the atmosphere—most likely the source of the sound—and it slowly sank towards the ground, gravity pulling the hunk of metal. It definitely wasn't anything from earth. At least, not civilian; SHIELD had some pretty sick rides. Tony reset his course, heading to the sinking ship. It was practically a beacon for his team, screaming " _Avengers, assemble!_ " Tony's main focus was on protecting civilians and reducing casualties. His worries were soon dismissed as he watched the top ten or so empty floors of a skyscraper catch the aircraft's fall. How did he know the top floors were empty? Because it was his goddamn tower.

Seriously? Of all the flippin' towers in all of New York—in all of the _world_ —it just _had_ to be his tower. Dejectedly watching as the ginormous A in _Avengers_ fell off the side of his tower, Tony sped off to assess the damage.

And imagine his surprise when a rickety old stereo somewhere inside the destroyed craft was blaring cheesy old eighties music. At least that was a sign they were remotely human. Or maybe space pirates that killed a crew of astronauts and stole their belongings. It was hard to tell, until a human-looking man hopped out of the cockpit. He had on some kind of mask, and some ragged looking outerwear, consisting of a long coat. The figure jumped to the ground—what was left of it—and straightened himself. He was average height, his gloved hands looked like a human's, and Tony thought he saw some hair behind the emotionless mask. Crashing his ship into the mightiest of earth's defenders, with super-technology and music blaring, he seemed confident. Either he was really dangerous, or really stupid.

A gust of wind blew the figure's long coat. The gesture would have looked regal, if it weren't on fire. Catching the danger a second later, the man shrieked and tried to pat out the fire with his gloves. The flames only grew, causing the figure to resort to abandoning the coat. He tried to shrug it off, but his arm got caught in the sleeve. He tumbled to the ground with an undignified grunt. Tony watched silently, unsure of really what to do. The figure staggered to his feet, coat now on the ground. All that was left was a small flame on the abandoned heap of clothing. He angrily kicked his coat, cursing the fire and the clothing. Once the fire was fully out, the figure turned around.

And then he saw Tony for the first time, and shrieked once more. _Definitely stupid_. A hand flew to the side of his helmet, and Tony watched as it retracted into nothing more than a small earpiece. Alright, that was kind of cool. And Tony was relieved to see he was indeed human. A human whose face was morphed into shock, confusion, and embarrassment. "Dude, is this your tower? 'Cause . . . _damn_ , we sure did a number. I knew we should have refilled the tank, but _some_ people—" the stranger glared to the smoking vessel— "can't build up enough dignity to ask for directions."

Tony smiled. He pulled back his mask, too, so that the two were face to face. A nagging voice in the back of his head told him to be worried about _we_ and obvious jab at another crew member. But the guy seemed harmless, friendly.

"We're on earth, right?" the figure asked. Before Tony could respond with a positive but witty answer, a raspy voice beat him to it.

"Of course we are, Quill, you idiot. I know where I'm goin'. This is just a pit stop, right Groot?" Tony waited for the next person to emerge. It was only when the person crawled out of the large hole in the cockpit and slid down the side of the ship that Tony realized it was not a person at all. It was a small, gun carrying, armor wearing, _talking_ rodent. And he was followed by a walking tree. Thankfully, none of the Avengers were there to hear him scream.

* * *

Clint was first on the scene, on account of the fact that he was only five floors below. Scott and Bruce were on his heels, but weren't as fast as the archer. When Barton reached the twentieth floor, he was met with a surplus of rubble and debris—but that didn't stop him. Less that three minutes, and he was crawling through a hole into the ceiling and facing a heap of twisted metal that was once a sort of aircraft. He quickly eyed Tony, clad in his suit, and talking to a stranger. The guy seemed to be making small talk with the billionaire, despite the utter chaos. Two people stood a bit away from the friendly stranger and—were they _green_?

Tony glanced at Clint, dirtied with soot and rubble. "Hey, Clint!" he waved over the archer. "Come meet Peter Quill. This guy's awesome! He's a space pirate from outer space!"

Clint observed the three strangers. This "Quill" character was mentioning to Tony something about the ship, motioning to the thing with vague gestures. All he got out of their outdated nerd babble was that there was a fourth member trying to fix the engine. Four against. . . . How many Avengers were there now? They've been taking in people like stray cats lately. They weren't a _team_ anymore so much as a _society_. They could probably make a small village now.

Green people, Clint could get over. I mean, he was around Bruce all the time. And their leader seemed human. But among the rubble, Clint couldn't seem to understand why a tree was in the middle of the wreckage. It was perfectly sculpted to look like some kind of tree-man hybrid. It looked so real—

Then Tree-Man turned his head, blinked his moving eyes, and smiled. "I am Groot." Peter and Quill's pop culture fest was interrupted as they heard Barton scream. Tony laughed as Clint nervously held his hands out, pleading to Groot that he's never used a wooden bow and arrow in his life. Groot only frowned, sadly. "I am Groot," he muttered to himself.

Peter shrugged at Tony. "He has that affect on people."

* * *

One by one, the Avengers had arrived on the scene. The "Guardians of the Galaxy," as they called themselves, were not as much as a threat now. Vision was having an intense discussion with Groot. (The android was the only one besides Rocket who could understand the many meanings of each "I am Groot.") Most of the team was clustered around Rocket the talking raccoon. The animal was quite the storyteller, and was attracting quite the audience.

Natasha and Gamora were sitting silently beside each other, glaring at anyone who tried to engage conversation with them. It was obvious the two would be the best of friends, assassinating and sharpening knives together, braiding each other's hair, et cetera. They were watching as Drax noted Bucky's metal arm. Rocket immediately stopped his story and leapt onto Bucky's shoulders, trying to yank the metal arm off. Some of the Avengers rushed to their friend's aid. Some others laughed. _"Seriously, Quill! I need this guy's arm!"_ Peter quickly denied helping the rabid raccoon.

But two young heroes were much more interested inspecting the space ship than hearing some story. Peter Quill, already knowing Rocket's totally false story by heart, decided to chat with the two. Gamora and the red-headed chick seemed like they would kill him if he tried talking to them, and he wanted to talk earthling to earthling. So he introduced himself to the nerd with the glasses, and shook his hand.

"Peter Quill," he said.

"Peter Parker," the nerd greeted warmly.

The silver-haired kid beside him shook Peter's hand next. "Peter Maximoff." Quill suddenly burst out laughing. The two Avengers exchanged a glance, wondering if it was something they did or said. "What?" Pietro asked with a frown.

The spaceman wiped a tear from his eye. He pointed to himself. "Peter." The finger was directed at Spider-Man. "Peter." Then finally, to Quicksilver, "Peter. Weird, right? We should start a club."

Peter (Maximoff) broke into a grin. "Imagine all the chaos we could inflict together. . . ." He trailed off, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

Peter (Parker) groaned to himself. "We're going to cause a lot of trouble, aren't we?"

Peter (Quill) slung an arm around each of the Peters' shoulders. "We sure are." And thus, the trifecta was born.

* * *

 **What's better than two Peters wrecking havoc? Three Peters, of course! I've been waiting a while to post something about the Guardians, so viola!**

 **A/N #1: You most likely know what I'm gonna say already, but I'll say it nonetheless. Your reviews are amazing, and I love reading your critiques, praises, and ideas for what to do next. Without you guys, this would just be 25k of words worth nothing.**

 **A/N #2: Also, BIG THANKS to those who have read up to here, whether you've been with me from my first update, read all 16 chapters in a matter of days** **, or just read this one chapter** **. My friend pointed out that before this chapter, this would be roughly 90 pages in a book! I don't think I've ever written something this long in my life! S** **o, thanks. :)**

 **A/N #3: Next week is my very first week of band camp! (Any band geeks out there?) Anyway, it's roughly nine hours, five days a week. My point is, I'm not sure how much I'll be writing the next two weeks. That doesn't mean I won't try, I'm just not making any promises. Thanks for understanding.**

 **Stay awesome, my dudes!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	17. What Team?

Tony sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He dejectedly kicked an abandoned pebble on the concrete sidewalk, watching as it scattered into a grate lining the New York streets. "People might get worried, y'know?" he asked his friend.

Steve, whose attention was glued to his phone, let out a hum that clearly stated he wasn't listening, but was willing to let Tony ramble.

"The Avengers haven't been assembled in days. _Weeks_. No one's heard from us. I mean, we haven't been on a mission since July."

"No one's needed us," mumbled Steve. He had one hand stuffed inside his leather jacket's pocket, and the other was intently scrolling on the small screen. "It's no wonder why."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Tony retorted. His phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket, and it was out in the blink of an eye. "Ooh! A Poliwag!"

Steve snorted. "Tony, it's a _Polywag_. Don't waste your time on it."

"Shut up, Mister I-Think-Bullsprouts-Look-Adorable."

"Shut up, Mister I-Owned-A-Gym-For-Two-Hours-Before-I-Got-Annihilated."

Tony sneered, stopping at the corner to open a Pokéstop. Steve followed the action a moment later. "I'm still gonna kill Barton for that."

* * *

"Wade, you suck."

The Merc with a Mouth gave a lopsided smile. "Can't say that's the first time someone's told me that, Spidey."

Peter threw his wrapper at the jerk. The two were at their favorite New York taco stand. (It was a bonus that the shady-looking shop had since become a Lure Pokéstop). Peter sighed as he stared at the small, digital map on his phone. Every gym for miles was red with Valor. He checked every single one. And every single damn one of them had the same owner.

"How is it even possible to have that many Gyms? I mean, is that all you do in your spare time?"

"Yup. Pretty much." He then gave a grimace. "I've almost got every Gym within twenty miles of here. There's just _one_ I can't beat; this stupid guy called _StanTheMan_. Any idea who that is?"

Peter sighed and ignored his friend. He did that a lot around Wade. "Well, I've caught more Pokémon than you. One hundred and thirty out of a hundred and forty-seven. As it turns out, web-slinging is an easy way to get around town."

Wade chuckled, taking a bite of his chimichanga. "The Avengers are going to kill you, though," stated the mercenary.

It wasn't completely unusual for Peter to go off the Avenger's grid occasionally. They required a text every now and then to prevent a rescue squad, but otherwise they gave him his space. And most often, he spent it at Xavier's. There was just something about the home for orphaned super-teens that the Avengers didn't have. Said school was where Pietro Maximoff had first introduced his fellow Peter to the app. (He was complaining that he had to walk at a _normal pace everywhere_ just for his GPS to register, and that it was excruciatingly boring.) Wade, Gambit, and Bobby immediately jumped on the new Pokémon trainer.

 _"Join Valor! The entire academy is Team Valor_ — _and we got these weirdos called the Fantastic Four to join, too_ _! It's the best! Mutant-kind is Valor and proud!"_ They didn't stop hounding him until he reached level five, and chose Valor (for fear of his life).

Unfortunately, through a tweet, Peter stumbled upon something troubling Tony Stark had posted: " _Avengers are Mystic, and are gonna slay anyone else. Obvs the best team out there. #PokémonGo_ "

Peter Parker wasn't sure what was more disturbing; Tony texting like someone a quarter of his age, or the fact that he knew the Avengers took their games seriously. If they found out their little Spiderling was Team Mystic. . . .

So he did the obvious thing. He stayed with Wade or the mutants, avoiding his problems. Luckily for Peter, Xavier's Academy had a load of Pokémon.

* * *

Phil Coulson was proud to say he was director of two things: one of the most elite, top-secret, and important organizations known as SHIELD, and more importantly, Team Instinct. And, boy, he just loved when those two things worked together. The most recent case of this was a negotiation with Asgard to set up Pokémon and Pokéstops in their realm. Thor was not amused with Son of Coul's offer, but Loki bribed a good few into agreeing.

Phil enjoyed working as SHIELD director and beside the Avengers, X-Men, and miscellaneous other groups. Phil also enjoyed being "director of Team Instinct," as he clearly did not name himself. He enjoyed walking around the base in Captain America knee-high socks, a SHIELD logo baseball cap, and an exact replica of his Pokémon Go character's jacket.

What Phil did _not_ enjoy was when Pokémon Go affected his team. And not in the good way. Sure, missions took an extra day or two when someone wanted to catch a Farfetch when in Asia, or they just _needed_ to track down the Pikachu they saw a few clicks back. These instances he could understand.

But Daisy Johnson had taken it too far.

Daisy was also one of the most tech-savy of the group. He'd seen her hack into all sorts of government websites and servers before SHIELD access and support. Since her joining, her skills with a computer had only increased.

Unfortunately for Phil, Daisy was also cutthroat when it came to competitions.

With a frown, Phil stalked down one of the halls of their base. Today, she had gone to far. Turning a corner, Phil nearly ran into his leading scientific agents. "Simmons. Fitz," he ordered.

The two agents dropped their friendly smiles and greetings almost instantly. "What is it, sir?" asked Fitz with curiosity.

"Daisy. Where is she?"

Fitz was a split-second away from answering, but was cut short by an elbow to the ribs. "Ouch!" he cried, making a face at Jemma. "What the bloody hell was—ouch!"

Jemma gave Phil a very overdone and false smile. "Actually, sir," she drawled out, "I think she's out currently. Right, Fitz?"

"Hmm?" Fitz was absent-mindedly rubbing his side. Simmons rolled her eyes. Phil extended his hand—the false one that looked oh, so real.

"Can either of you fix this?" he asked urgently.

Two pairs of eyes eagerly ran the piece over. "Nothing seems to be wrong externally. . . ," mused Fitz.

"But internally. . . there might be a problem inside," Simmons continued, taking the prosthetic in her hand.

Phil huffed. "Yeah, I think so." Fishing out his phone with his other hand, Phil opened it to the home screen and showed it to the scientists. The two watched, silently questioning what was wrong with a perfectly normal phone. Phil hit a very certain app on the home page, and suddenly— "The screen goes blank," Phil explained. "Every time."

"And it only crashes with Pokémon Go, sir?" Fitz was trying to hold back a smile.

Before Phil could reply wittily about this being a step below a code red in his books, an exit door opened. In strolled a very particular agent, hair done, scarf on her shoulders, and Starbucks in her hand, having a seemingly great day. She looked up from her phone and met the murderous eyes of Phil Coulson.

"Crap."

"Daisy Johnson," Phil ground out before taking off after the already fleeing agent.

"Um, sir?" Jemma called after the man weakly. He was already long gone. "Do you want your hand back?"

* * *

The Guardians of the Galaxy befriended the Avengers in the way of joining Team Mystic.

The X-Men were constantly plotting how to break into the mega-huge Gym on top of the Avengers Tower, reserved only for Avengers battles; their latest idea was to use Peter Parker as a Trojan Horse. Pietro volunteered instead. His whereabouts are currently unknown.

As for the other Avengers, Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes went missing for over a month and came back with Legendary Pokémon and haunted eyes. No one wanted to ask what they had to do to collect them. T'Challa and Sam were constantly stalking each other, trying to catch whichever Pokémon the other had spotted, just out of spite. Vision was neutral; despite being past level five, he did not chose a team. He simply strolled around, catching whatever Pokémon he found cute enough to show to Wanda. Clint was off with some guy named Matt Murdock, who Clint insisted was a Pokémon tracker with his "mysterious blind-man super-senses".

Phil has formed strong ties with Asgard due to their deal, but was shocked to find the majority was Team Mystic, following Thor Odinson and his Avengers. He had Loki on his team. _Loki_ , for God's sake.

Even villains were not spared from the worldwide epidemic. Loki himself, obviously Team Instinct, was ruthless when claiming Asgardian Gyms. The other realm's Pokémon were much stronger and greater, leading to much more intense battles. Some Pokémon were designed exclusive for the Asgardians, prompting several SHIELD Midgardians to "hop the inter-dimeansional border". Loki was closest to catching them all.

Magneto and his Brotherhood were avid Valor members, but were much more aggressive when it came to taking over Gyms than Charles and his students. When Gambit was found to be claiming Gyms as a Valor member, but also for the Brotherhood, Charles had to literally stop some students from committing murder.

In over a month, war erupted. It wasn't international or intergalactic war. It was war between friends. War between foes. Friends turned on friends for team pride. Grudges held for years were dissolved to band together and find rare higher-ranking Pokémon.

No one, not even some of the galaxy's greatest heroes, was safe from Pokémon Go.

* * *

 **Well, what can I say? My excuse for not posting in close to two months? The Marvel folk were goofing around with Pokémon Go, obviously! (Also, before I forget, this was heavily based off an awesome head canon I saw. If any of you guys know who made it, let me know so I can give credit.)**

 **In all seriousness, starting my freshman year in high school was a lot more time consuming than I had planned. I'm taking all honors classes, an online course, and obviously school itself takes up a lot of time in my day. But mainly, it was band.**

 **Some of you had asked about what band camp was. Basically, for two weeks before school started, my marching band spent nine-hour days in the Florida sun working on marching techniques. Since school has started, I have after school practice until 6:30 PM Mondays and Wednesdays, and starting two weeks ago, Fridays we prep for football games directly after school until roughly 11:00. And, to put the cherry on top, I'm in the school's jazz band.**

 **It takes a lot of time, and hell, a whole lot of money, but it's freaking awesome. My four years in band and first year in marching band are experiences I'll never forget, just like this website. If you're considering joining band, I highly encourage it. I went from a severe introvert with (I kid you not) no friends, to someone with over a hundred kids I wouldn't hesitate to call my family. And it actually convinced me to go outside for once. Oh, yeah: Any band people out there? Any trumpets out there? (Woot trumpets!)**

 **So, yeah. A lot of my time's been spent. It certainly didn't help my writer's block, because whenever I logged on, I felt it was more productive to work on my online course or do online homework rather than write, and I had no inspiration. I had stories to tell, but no time to tell them. They just kind of sat in my head, big what-ifs.**

 **But writing this story . . . it felt really good. I've seen your comments, guys. Every single one. And too many times I've been the reader begging an inactive story to suddenly spring to life. It felt awful, not writing.**

 **I'm not sure if my posting will be routine. I definitely won't post every active story every week, but I'll try to get one or two at the very least.**

 **If you're still reading, thank you. Thanks so much. For reading all this useless nonsense, for reading my story/stories. For even just reading this chapter because it caught your eye.**

 **Thanks.**

 **Stay awesome, my dudes!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	18. One Slight Mishearing

There was a slight awkwardness between Steve Rogers and Clint Barton when the two met for the first time. Something . . . off. Like the way people looked at the (not so) normal guy from Brooklyn with wide eyes and slacked jaws. The stuttering and Yes sirs and all that idolism that bothered Steve a bit. But this Barton man . . . it wasn't just the Captain America admiration. It was something more. Steve shrugged it off, and the two formed a alliance, then friendship, over their team.

But there was another viewpoint of this situation. A much more interesting, cringe-worthy viewpoint.

It was a mere week before the Avengers had assembled. Clint had just read his briefing, and his mind was still reeling. He was tasked with becoming partners with some like the Hulk and Iron Man. Him, just a normal deaf guy with good aim, fighting with superheroes. It was no shock to him when he heard (he definitely did not eavesdrop or pry to acquire this knowledge) that Natasha Romanoff was recruited, also. _She_ could hold her own among these super-beings just fine.

So, naturally, Clint sought out his friend to exchange information about their latest SHIELD issued mission. Nee gossip about how awesome the next week or two would be.

"Banner," Natasha stated simply, "alias of Hulk. He's reliable. We need to keep an eye on him."

Clint nodded with a smirk, a very contradictory action to his friend's somber movements. "Green guy with anger issues. Got it."

An eye-roll was all he earned. "Stark has an ego. He'll want to take leadership, naturally."

"So we let him?"

"We let him think he's in charger. Let him and his simple mind be."

Clint shrugged. That wasn't too bad. This Stark guy seemed full of himself, but he also had an IQ to rival Einstein's.

And then Clint noticed Natasha's smirk. It wasn't often she let out a joke or a bit of gossip, but when she did, they were pure gold. "Did you hear about this Steve Rogers?"

"Capsicle?" Clint inquired. His knowledge, other than the bare basics of pastime idol and time-traveler, was limited. "Yeah, I heard 'bout him. Agent Coulson won't shut up about him." Hawkeye had only met Phil Coulson a few times as of this point, but he seemed a bit of a fanatic when it came to this certain "Avenger."

"There's rumors," Nat began, "that he was the ex-director's boyfriend."

Clint thought this was phenomenal. And it was all he could think when he shook Steve Roger's hand for the first time.

Unfortunately, Clint had misheard his dear friend. All that ran through his head when he shook _freakin' Captain America's hand_ for the first time was "Damn, this is the director's ex-boyfriend. He's gotta have guts, breaking up with Fury."

And his dear, dear friend Natasha, had thought it too humorous to correct. All Clint could do when he realized his erroneous mistake was cringe. Even today, after years of knowing the man, sometimes he would remember that day, and hang his head with embarrassment.

Even worse: Natasha had the ultimate blackmail.

* * *

 **Okay, firstly: this is based off an insanely funny head canon I saw. Second: this may be the best head canon I've ever seen. Honestly, the first time I read it, I couldn't stop laughing. Mainly because it seemed like it had actually happened. Hope I did it justice.**

 **Also, hope you guys enjoyed it! Like usual, reviews and criticism are awesome! I read every single review (on every story I have), so please know that if you sent an idea or prompt and I have not responded or written it, it usually means I have limited knowledge about the subject. Example: Daredevil chapter. I've only seen the first two episodes, so writing a chapter now wouldn't be nearly as good as if i were a season or two in, or even caught up. Same for many of the other prompts. Not a definite NO, just a save for when i can do it justice.**

 **Thanks for understanding, guys. And, like usual:**

 **Stay awesome, my dudes!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	19. What's Yo Name, Man?

**WARNING: Contains a good deal of mature language. (Obviously. I mean, it's _Hamilton_.)**

* * *

 _"How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean by providence impoverished, in squalor grow up to be a hero and a scholar?"_

"Wade, what are you doing?"

 _"The ten dollar founding father without a father got a lot farther by working a lot harder by being a lot smarter by being a self-starter. By fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter."_

Tony eyed the mercenary carefully. He was clad in his signature suit and mask, with a colonial hat perched atop his head. "Wait, is this that Broadway show—?"

 _"AND EVERY DAY WHILE SLAVES WERE BEING SLAUGHTERED AND CARTED AWAY ACROSS THE WAVES, HE STRUGGLED AND KEPT HIS GUARD UP. INSIDE, HE WAS LONGING FOR SOMETHING TO BE A PART OF. THE BROTHER WAS READY TO BEG, STEAL, BORROW, OR BARTER."_

Tony kept his mouth shut. Best not to question Wilson.

 _"Then a hurricane came, and devastation reigned,"_ Wade continued, clutching his hands to his chest in a sympathetic fashion. _"Our man saw his future drip, drippin' down the drain. Put a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain and he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his brain."_

Tony heard footsteps behind him. Steve appeared at his shoulder, giving Wade a peculiar look. "What's Wilson up to now?"

Before Tony could give a flat reply, Wade began the next verse, this time louder and more enthusiastic than before. _"Well, the word got around, they said, 'This kid is insane, man.' Took up a collection just to send his to the mainland. 'Get your education, don't forget from whence you came, and the world is gonna know your name. What's yo name, man?'_

 _"Alexander Hamilton."_ Now the strength was gone, and his voice was simple and soft. _"My name is Alexander Hamilton. And there's a million things I haven't done, but just you wait. Just you wait. . . ."_

"Who's Alexander Hamilton?" Steve whispered to Tony. Even today, simple pop culture references flew right over his head.

"You'd like him. He's a pretty patriotic guy."

* * *

It was a bit chaotic since Wade had first found the existence of the Broadway smash hit. He showed Peter, who introduced the musical to Pietro, who in turn showed it to his twin; long story short, everyone knew within a day or two.

And in the tower, you either liked it, or you were wrong.

You see, it was a natural occurrence to hear the melody of a top favorite wafting down the halls. The catchy phrases, the epics rap battles, the duets or group sing-alongs—there was always at least one person in the building with Hamilton on the mind. They were in New York; it was too tempting, living only blocks away from the greatest sensation to ever hit the surface of the Earth. (Or so Tony said. But, then again, he'd seen the show four times already. Being a billionaire had its perks.)

Natasha, Wanda, and Bruce sat around a coffee table in the living area, clutching steaming cups of coffee and nursing minor headaches.

"I mean, it's not that I _don't_ like Hamilton," Bruce stated slowly. "It's just . . . they're so. . . ."

"Annoying?" Natasha offered.

Bruce shrugged. "I would've gone with repetitive, but that works too."

"You don't have an obsessive twin," Wanda muttered darkly, sipping her coffee. The dark circles under her eyes were as prominent as the rest of the small group's. "It's all he talks about. All he does is rap at a super-speed; it just sounds like humming to me. And he introduced it to Vision! Now I have no one to seek refuge with."

Natasha nodded in sympathy. "Clint nearly broke T'Challa's leg during _Cabinet Rap Battle #1_."

Bruce frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. "How do you even—"

"Don't ask."

* * *

Sam Wilson, arms crossed confidently and sunglasses perched atop his nose, grinned. _"There's nothin' rich folks love more than goin' downtown and slummin' it with the poor. They pull up in their carriages and gawk at the students in the commons just to watch them talk! Take Phillip Schuyler—the man is loaded. Uh-oh! But little does he know that his daughters, Peggy, Angelica, Eliza sneak into the city just to watch all the guy at—"_

 _"Work, work."_

 _"Angelica!"_ sang the walking symbol of America, quite happily.

 _"Eliza—"_ sang said idol's assassin best friend. Honestly, Bucky was simply wondering how he got here in the first place.

 _"And Peggy!"_ added Scott Lang, who seemed to be enjoying this a bit too much.

 _"The Schuyler sisters."_

 _"Angelica—"_

 _"Peggy—"_

 _"Eliza!"_

 _"Work!"_ they finished in unison, complete with the signature finger snap.

* * *

 _"After the war I went back to New York!"_ began the Burr wanna-be.

 _"A-after the war I went back to New York!"_

 _"I finished up my studies and I practiced law."_

 _"Yeah, I practiced law; Burr worked next door."_

 _"Even though we started at the very same time, Alexander Hamilton began to climb. How to account for his rise to the top? Man, the man is non-stop!"_

Wolverine swore that if one more person burst into song, he would slice his own brain apart with his own claws. It wouldn't do much, except give him a few seconds of reprieve. Damn you, Wilson.

Instead of doing something unspeakably violent, he knocked on the door. The rapping continued. Logan, being his polite Canadian self, threw open the door and let himself inside without a further thought. Sitting at his desk, as Logan had presumed, was Charles Xavier, expertly rapping Hamilton's dialogue.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he interrupted, quite gruffly. "You too? I swear, I'm the only sane one around here."

There was a brief silence.

"Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room?" stated Magneto rather simply, in a half sing-song voice.

* * *

There was a knock at the door, soon followed by the door creaking open slightly.

"Coulson?" asked a voice through the tiny crack. "You busy?"

"Not at all, Daisy," stated the ex-director. Coulson pulled the earbuds out of his ears—something that made paperwork bearable—and stacked a few papers on his desk before giving his whole attention to the now fully opened door. In entered Daisy. Only, to Coulson's surprise, Fitz, Simmons, May, and Mack followed in suit. They all stood before his desk, solemn faced (except for Fitz, who looked like he was about to cry from trying to not to laugh). "What's this?"

"An intervention," began Jemma factitiously.

Coulson blinked. A what now? Intervention? He wasn't on drugs, he wasn't drinking too much in his spare time. . . . Perhaps it was a joke; a work intervention, because he practically never left SHIELD property, and when he did, it was for SHIELD work.

But, no, this was not a work intervention.

"This is about . . . your latest interests." Even Daisy was squirming about the topic. What could possibly be so bad?

May opened her mouth to speak, most likely to break the news, when Fitz finally let the laughter burst. "It's you _Hamilton_ obsession," he managed between gasps. "Your bloody Broadway show. We're—we're staging an intervention for—for _Hamilton_."

Jemma jabbed him in the ribs sharply. " _Leo_ ," she hissed.

Coulson was merely amused. "An intervention for a theater show?"

"Sir, look at your mug." Phil followed Mack's orders and looked at his chest.

Okay, today was a bad day to wear his tie with the Hamilton logo on it. "That's nothing."

"What about your mug?" May interrogated.

"It's a _mug_ , Melinda. So what if it's—"

"What's playing on your phone right now?"

Phil bit his lip, glancing to his phone and discarded earbuds. He sighed, then stated, "I might have a slight problem."

" _Slight?_ " Daisy questioned with a scoff. "Respectfully, sir, you passed _obsession_ a long time ago. Luckily, admitting you have a problem is the first step to regaining control of your life."

* * *

 **Hey guys! I would've uploaded this chapter two weeks ago, but I had good reasons not to!**

 **I actually wrote this two weeks ago, but when I finished all 3k with triumph and pride . . . my webpage crashed. And I was back to 350 words—the very beginning. And thus went my motivation. Best to put it off until next week (last week) when. . . .**

 ** _Then a hurricane came, and devastation reigned. Our blogger saw her update drip, drippin' down the drain._**

 **Yeah. One of the lucky Northeastern Floridians. Considering its a ten minute walk to the beach from my house, we decided it was a safe choice to evacuate to my cousins. Thank God there was practically no damage. Living so close to St. Augustine and seeing what they dealt with, it really opened my eyes to how serious this storm was. My first hurricane. My family, house, and precious little parakeet are all okay.**

 **So, yeah. That and the fact that our first band competition was three weeks ago (and we kinda sucked) I didn't really have motivation to write. Hopefully I can update more than just this this week.**

 **Note: I just typed these words by ear and by memory, so if anything's wrong, don't hesitate to let me know!**

 **By the way** **—**

 _ **HAPPY ANNIVERSARY**_

 **Thanks for reading! Stay awesome my dudes!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	20. Nice Ride

Surprisingly, the cashier didn't ask why Pietro single-handedly bought twelve hot dogs. The young mutant figured it was because it was a gas station; some weird stuff happened at gas stations.

It was only recently that he was once more overshadowed by his younger twin. Wanda, the responsible, thoughtful, and wise sibling was gifted a Nissan and a few hundred bucks worth of gas money from the one and only Tony Stark. Pietro, the irresponsible, thoughtless, and wise-ass sibling got fifteen bucks for churro money and a stern warning to never try and drive.

It never bothered Pietro much that he never got his liscense: his attention span was too small for learning—traffic and red lights would be hell; he could be across the continental U.S. within minutes; gas was too steep for any teenager to pay; it was fun to beg and annoy Wanda until she drove him anywhere, a significant bonus. What he really missed were the cars. That deep-seeded, unexplainable love of engines and auto-parts that nearly every man had were not missing in this figure, as strange as he was.

When he walked back to find his sister filling up her gas tank to her ordinary, bland car, his eyes were immediately drawn to the spectacular set of wheels at the neighboring pump. Running (at a normal human speed) Pietro soon found himself at his sister's side. She was making small chat with the hot-rod's owner, a young man with tan skin, dark hair, and one hell of a jawline. Heck, his car was so cool, Pietro forgot for a moment that his little sister was chatting with some hot guy.

Wanda quickly became aware of her sibling lingering at her shoulder, armful of hotdogs forgotten but still being held. "Pietro," she introduced, "this is Robbie."

"Sick ride." Inwardly, Pietro prayed he didn't sound too desperate or awestruck.

The man's eyes flicked to the young peer's face, to the massive number of mystery-meat hotdogs, and back. "I know," he replied coyly.

It really was a decent ride. Glossy black paint, shining steel engine protruding from the hood in a showy, "look at me" manner. Clean, virtually spotless. It seemed . . . familiar. God, where had he seen this before? A parking lot? No—it was on the television.

The speedster's short attention span caused him to quickly lose his train of thought as a new figure came into view. Short, dyed hair; black clothing and dark makeup; confidant, almost arrogant walk.

"Daisy?" both the Maximoffs asked in unison. The agent's smile grew as she took note of the two. Robbie's eyes tried to piece together the new information.

"You all know each other?" he asked.

Wanda hugged Daisy in answer, and Pietro (boyishly) tried to hide a blush as he awkwardly waved. Indeed he had forgotten about his recent buy, because the hotdogs were sent sprawling to the ground. Daisy smirked, trying to hide a good-natured laugh.

"Where have you been?" Wanda asked with a mix of concern and exasperation. "You practically dropped off of the map a few months ago. I get the whole SHIELD thing, but a call would have been nice."

The twins noted a falter in Daisy's smile at the mention of SHIELD. The agent didn't mention anything. Instead, she scuffed the toe of her shoe against the concrete ground sheepishly. "Sorry. Things have been a little . . . _hectic_ recently. Inhumans and all."

Suddenly and rather rudely (Pietro got the image this guy didn't care much about his reputation) Robbie cleared his throat. Daisy glanced at him, almost apologetically. She them looked at the young mutants, fully apologetic.

"Sorry guys. Gotta run." She opened the car door, making to climb into Robbie's ride.

That was when the notion struck Pietro—Daisy was _with_ this guy. It wasn't coincidence the duo had come to the same gas station. It _was_ coincidence the Maximoffs ran into them, though, and Pietro bitterly realized that if it hadn't been for the lucky run in, they wouldn't have seen Daisy any time soon. He immediately felt a dislike for this Robbie, if that was even his name.

Daisy stopped her action halfway, addressing Wanda, "I'll call you. Promise."

Robbie finished pumping the gas, then made his way to the driver's side without so much as a glance to the two. Pietro watched sorely as the car lights turned on, and onward the automobile went.

"Look's like Daisy's got a boyfriend," Wanda cooed to no one in particular.

Pietro frowned. It felt like that frown stayed—figuratively and literally—the entire time passing between the encounter and his impromptu talk with ex-Director Phil Coulson. He didn't tell Wanda what Phil shared: Daisy going rogue, SHIELD's instability towards Inhumans (and most likely Mutantkind, too), or her new partner in crime.

Pietro would normally root for the vigilante; they most often were fighting for the right reasons. But he really, truly had a severe dislike for the Ghost Rider.

* * *

 **Ta da!**

 **A/N #1: If I hadn't said it yet, I don't own Agents of SHIELD. Duh. I just watched the show and this little drabble popped up after watching the current episode and thinking back to a certain previous chapter. . . .**

 **A/N #2: Please don't judge! A) I have very little knowledge about Ghost Rider; I am going solely off of the Agents of SHIELD interpretation. If anything _in that media_ is incorrect, please let me know. B) I do not own a car. I do not drive. I am not allowed to drive. I am a fourteen year old girl. Therefore, I have next to no clue what terms or fancy phrasing or stuff you use for cars. Kinda winged it. If I made any mistakes, please let me know. (Who knows? Might help when I take Driver's Ed in five months.)**

 **A/N #3: As always, thanks for reading! I'm always open to suggestions. I have realized that these past few chapters have been a little targeted; people who haven't seen Agents of SHIELD or Hamilton or any of these would not have fully understood the chapter. Do you guys enjoy me including pop culture? Or doesn't it annoy some of you when I (rarely) update, and it's something you won't even enjoy? Please let me know! You guys are my audience; I take your thoughts into consideration.**

 **Thanks for anyone who's read these A/Ns.**

 ** _HAPPY ANNIVERSARY_**

 **Stay awesome, my dudes!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	21. Someone's Going to have to Change

Halloween was one of the most chaotic nights of the year in the Avengers' Tower. A night of identity and outfit swapping, pranks, and buckets of candy.

By six-thirty, there was anarchy. Wade and Peter disappeared out a window, each wearing the other's crime-fighting outfit. Pietro and Wanda had disappeared hours ago; the former declared he was off to tee-pee his father's evil lair, and the latter was headed to SHIELD headquarters for a night of trick-or-treating. Vision was obviously in tow.

Clint and Natasha were gone the whole day, off to Clint'S home where his children were prepping for an intense candy-collecting night. The youngsters were dressed as their favorite superheroes (which caused quite a controversy among the Avengers when the identities were revealed).

Bruce and author were on candy duty. Sitting on the front steps to the ginormous tower, Bruce, who was dressed as a mad scientist, was politely handing out candy to the younger children. Thor, clad with his hammer and usual outfit, was throwing candy to the older children, believing only the fittest and strongest warriors would gain the delicious treats. Bruce made sure the children who struggled to gain some got a handful.

Steve was rather excited on Halloween Eve. As a child, his Halloweens consisted of Bucky and him getting their sheets to become ghosts, and using their pillowcases to collect the hard candies and whatever sweets were still around during the wartime.

Short to say, Steve was a hardcore candy-collector. And the best thing about being a superhero: your day job uniform could double as a costume. With red, white, and blue uniform and shield in tow, Steve patiently waited for his fellow trick-or-treaters.

First to appear was Sam, confidently strutting into the room with a Captain America suit on. It was obviously hand-made, but the effort put into it was admirable. He even used a painted trash an lid as a shield.

Sam looked at his friend and frowned. "Well, this is awkward. But, to be fair, I thought of it first."

"Really?" Steve huffed, half amusement, half disbelief. "I thought of it _decades ago_. Great work on the costume, but I'm the real Captain America. I should be the one to—"

Steve cut off as his eyes darted to a newly appeared figure: Bucky Barnes, wearing a seemingly authentic Captain America suit.

Bucky gave a half-hearted glance at his two friends. He obviously didn't want to relenquish the rights to wearing the suit for the evening. "Someone's going to have to change."

"Not me," stated the final trick-or-treated confidently. Tony Stark, in yet another Captain America suit, appeared at the doorway. "I already posted the Halloween selfie. I win."

After much argument and rational points, three grown men trudged back to their rooms, trying to think of a last-minute Halloween costume. Tony left early, getting a head start on the candy.

* * *

 **Hey guys! Just a little halloween fluff for you all. Tried to keep it short—I know a good deal of you all ha e school today and are in prep for trick-or-treating, as am I. Note that I wrote this all in one night, so if there're any errors, don't be afraid to point them out!**

 **Also the latter half was inspired by a funny fan art I saw a while ago. Yes, I waited months to write about this.**

 **Hope you all have a safe Halloween and get lots of candy and perform well in the Skeleton War. Also for those who don't celebrate Halloween, have a spoopy night! Thanks for reading.**

 **Stay awesome, my dudes!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


	22. Join the Party, I Guess

You would not believe them if they had told you the tower was quiet on Thanksgiving. That could be because all the happy people were gone.

Clint and Natasha were the first to go; they were spending the holiday at Clint's farm, with his family. It wasn't as if they hadn't extended the invitation to the whole team. The were turned down on account of how many things were broken last time, and the team had grown considerably in size.

Peter Parker and his aunt were out of town, visiting some distant relatives.

The Macimoff twins were trying to track down their father. Much to the team's chagrin, the two had set off to try and spend a holiday with their "family" (if a mass murderer could be considered that).

T'Challa was in Wakanda with his people.

Sam Wilson had some buddies he warned to catch up with. Without supers—just normal people, he politely stressed.

Scott Lang was with Hank and his daughter, who had a severe disliking of Starks.

Thor was off in Asgard, they presumed. He came and went as he pleased, independent of Midgard's traditions.

The agents of SHIELD were having some sort of holiday business party. Everyone was to our afraid to see what went on behind those base doors.

So that left the orphans; Bruce, Tony, Steve, and Vision, to be exact. A depressing bunch, if you ever saw one. Tony helped himself to more than a few drinks, Vision couldn't cook for his life, and Steve and Bruce were trying to be cheerful.

Bruce was halfway through explaining Macy's Thanksgiving Parade when they heard a crash sounding like something big and metal crashing into something bigger and metallier. Our Bruce heard Tony describe something like that, he would ban him from the lab forever.

It took them three and a half minutes to get to the roof, and in that time, the smoke had cleared and four figures and a plant had appeared.

"Tony Stank!" Peter Quill exclaimed, throwing his arms out widely.

A muscle in Tony's brow twitched. From the mispronounced name or the sever damage to his roof, no one knew. Bruce quickly interjected, for fear of any profanity Tony might have spilt.

"Nice of you all to drop by. Any, uh, reason in particular?"

"Quill speaks of local festivities," Drax informed the Avengers dutifully. "A giving OF thanks."

"I am Groot," said Groot with a nod. Rocket snorted at Groot's statement.

Steve, Bruce, and Tony shared a glance.

Finally, Tony shrugged. "Eh, what the hell. We need something to lift our sad little spirits."

The following Monday, when the disbanded Avengers returned, they found a horrific mess. Leftover food from god knows when WAS on every surface; Bruce and Gamora had started a pool tournament; Rocket, Tony, and Peter were playing strip poker in the corner; Steve sat by himself, headphones on and Awesome Mixtape Vol. 1 on full volume.

No matter what, no one would speak of what happened during the days of that year's Thanksgiving. Frankly, they were too scared to ask.

* * *

 **Extremely short, I know, but A, it's a holiday. Gimme a break. And B, I wrote this within an hour because I have _so much homework_. Sorry I'm behind on my updating, but I have an 86 and a 75 in Spanish 2 and International Relations, respectively. Trust me, school work is not what I want to be doing. **

**But, enough airing of my grievances. For one, I'm thankful for my readers, followers, and favorite-ers. Thanks for sticking with me, through thick and thin. Also, thanks to my new beta, Maniac Jack.**

 **Have a safe, Happy Thanksgiving (or a random Thursday for those who don't celebrate it).**

 **Stay awesome, my dudes!**

 **~palmtreedragons**


End file.
